Secret From The Past
by AgentDiNozzo13
Summary: Tony comes back from a family reunion in Italy and seems troubled. He shuts out any worry from the others. What secret from his past is coming back to haunt him? And will Gibbs notice before it's too late? Includes abused Tony! Rated T for abuse.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own NCIS or any of its characters but God knows I wish I did! (Especially Tony! I would LOVE to own him!!! ) :D**

**A/N: There is some Italian in this but don't worry, I always have a translation. Well, except for Ciao. That means hello. Ok that's it. Enjoy the story!**

Gibbs walked out of the elevator and into the bullpen. His team was seated at their desks. Well, not all of his team.

"Where's DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked with an edge of annoyance.

Ziva was the first to answer.

"He is at a Family Reunion in Italy, remember?" He said he sent you a leave request."

Gibbs cast his eyes on her.

"You don't check your email. Never mind." Ziva answered solemnly.

McGee spoke up.

"He said he's not staying for the whole event. Only a couple days. He didn't seem too excited about it either."

Gibbs gave an irritated look before starting on the mountain of paperwork that had accumulated on his desk.

Moments later his phone rang. He answered and listened for a few seconds, then hung up.

"Grab your gear. Dead Navy Lieutenant found in a dumpster in Rock Creek Park."

Ziva and McGee slung their backpacks over their shoulders. It wasn't quite the same without Tony's immediate call for shotgun.

They stepped into the silent elevator and the doors slid closed.

_________

Tony took a deep breath, preparing himself. He was standing outside his father's Italian villa. That was where the Reunion was set to take place.

He knocked lightly and waited.

His father's butler opened the door. His face looked glum.

"Ciao Anthony." He greeted.

"Ciao Vincent."

"Suo padre è nel suo studio." **(Translation: "Your father is in his study.")**

"Ringraziamenti." **(Translation: "Thanks.")**

It was convenient that Tony knew Italian, but right now he was in no mood to be remembering an entire other language. He was thankful that his father could speak occasional sentences in broken English.

Tony entered the large, empty main hallway and the house's overall silence, concluding he was the first to arrive.

_Great. _He thought.

Tony cautiously made his way to his father's study. He knocked and waited.

The door opened moments later to reveal a hard-faced Italian man. His cold eyes cast down on Tony.

"Ciao, Anthony."

"Ciao, father."

Tony didn't look his father in the eyes.

Mr. DiNozzo suddenly grabbed Tony by the shirt and shoved him into the wall.

"Lei il figlio ingrato di una femmina. Il becuase giusto lei è dell'agente di governo speciale, che non significa che lei non è una vite su. La sola ragione l'ho invitata a questo era mostrare che il successo suoi cugini sono diventati da unire le aziende a conduzione familiare, un sentiero che lei ha evitato stupidamente." **(Translation:** "**You ungrateful son of a bitch. Just becuase you're some special government agent, that doesn't mean that you aren't a screw up. The only reason I invited you to this was to show what a success your cousins have become since joining the family business, a path you foolishly avoided.")**

"Piacevole per vederla anche, il babbo." **(Translation: "Nice to see you too, dad.") **Tony replied sarcastically.

The sarcasm was a bad choice. His father pulled his fist back and slammed it into Tony's right eye.

Tony didn't even flinch. He could feel a bruise forming around his eye.

They were interrupted when Vincent let in another one of Tony's cousins, Ricky.

Ricky came into Mr. DiNozzo's study without bothering to knock.

Mr. DiNozzo stood from his desk chair and went over to Ricky, embracing him in a hug and giving him the traditional Italian kiss on each cheek.

Ricky hugged him back then went over to Tony. Ricky has been living in New York for the past six years, so he greeted him with a slight New York accent.

"Hey, Tony."

Tony nodded in his direction. Ricky knew about how Tony's relationship with his father had been. The three went into the main hallway to await the arrival of the other relatives.

_________

Upon their arrival to the crime scene, Gibbs sent Ziva and McGee to their tasks while he went to talk to the Metro cop who had blocked off the area.

He wasn't very helpful.

"We ID'd him as Lieutenant Jason Briggs."

"You touched the body?" Gibbs barked.

The cops face didn't waver.

"Actually, his dog tags were sitting on top of his body, _sir_." He put emphasis on sir.

Gibbs glared and went over to the body.

Sure enough, the dog tags had been taken off the victim's neck and placed on his stomach. The Lieutenant was lying on his back under a large tree. His hands were folded on his stomach as well. If it weren't for the 9mm slug in his head he would have looked like he was sleeping.

Ziva came up behind Gibbs.

"Ducky's here." She said.

At that time, Ducky and Palmer came over. Ducky was lecturing Palmer.

"I'm terribly sorry Jethro, but Palmer got us lost again.'

Gibbs smiled.

Ducky knelt down next to the body.

"What do we have here?" Ducky inquired.

He took out his liver probe and stuck it into the victim.

"Well I estimate time of death to be around 23 hundred hours last night. The amount of blood pooling says that this is where he was shot."

Gibbs looked at his watch.

"You mean the body's been here for nine hours and no one noticed until now?"

"I suppose that, to the common eye, he would appear to be asleep. He very well may have been when he was shot."

"Thanks Duck."

Gibbs walked off as Ducky and Palmer got the body into the van.

McGee was talking to Ziva. She was taking pictures of the crime scene while he bagged and tagged.

"Don't you wonder what Tony's doing right now?" McGee asked.

Ziva didn't look up when she answered.

"It is simple, McGee. He is in Italy, hitting on girls and having fun, while we are here, digging through a dumpster."

McGee stopped for a moment.

"Wait. Didn't we get the call from someone who claimed to have found the body in the dumpster?"

Ziva stopped too.

"Yes that is right. Yet, the body we focused on was the one in plain sight under that tree." She pointed to the treat.

McGee reached down into the dumpster and stopped suddenly.

Ziva came over and helped him move garbage away.

"Boss, you may want to come see this!" McGee yelled.

Gibbs came up behind them.

"What, McGee?" Gibbs asked impatiently.

McGee's eyes flicked to the dumpster.

Inside they had uncovered the head of a girl no older than six.

____________

By now, all of his family had arrived. Well, all men had. Women were at their own reunion in Sicily. All the men were gathered in the dining room. Their dinner would be served soon.

Mr. DiNozzo was seated at the head of the table. Tony was at the end of the left side.

When the butlers came in with individual trays, Mr. DiNozzo said to the butler about to serve Tony, "Non dare un pasto a Anthony. Non ha bisogno del peso extra." **(Translation: "Don't give a meal to Anthony. He doesn't need the extra weight.")**

Tony looked down at his perfectly fit stomach and frowned.

Some of his cousins gave him looks of pity, others looks of hate.

Tony sighed.

_This is going to he a long few days._

___________

This didn't make any sense.

They had gotten a call about a dead Lieutenant in a dumpster. They found the Lieutenant, but he was under a nearby tree. In the dumpster there was a dead little girl. At first they had thought it was just a head, but when they moved away the rest of the trash, there was a full body.

Gibbs had looked away in disgust. The girl had resembled Kelly.

He was giving grief to the entire team throughout the entire case. He barely looked at them. He just barked orders. McGee became the victim of more head slaps than usual.

A few days later, when Tony came out of the elevator and walked slowly to his desk, trying to hide his limp, Gibbs didn't even look at the appearance of his senior agent.

"McGee, fill DiNozzo in."

McGee went over to Tony's desk and started explaining, in detail, what their case was so far.

Tony listened half-heartedly.

McGee was studying Tony as he talked on autopilot.

His partner had large bags under his eyes. Worry and pain lines were clearly visible on his face. He seemed to only to only be half-listening to what he was saying. His eyes were glazed over. The thing that scared McGee the most was the three-inch long scar that were slightly peaking out of Tony's unusually-fully-buttoned shirt. It was definitely fairly new.

When McGee finished explaining the case, Tony wasn't listening at all.

"Tony!" McGee said to his face.

Tony snapped his head up to McGee.

"What?"

McGee looked over at Ziva. Her face mirrored McGee's feeling of worry. Gibbs was looking through the case file. He didn't look up.

"DiNozzo!"

Tony's head whipped over to Gibbs.

"Yeah boss?"

"Stop wasting time and get to work! You're not on vacation anymore!"

Tony almost wasn't able to hide the look of hurt on his face.

"Right boss."

Tony leaned over his desk to McGee. He spoke in a whisper.

"What work am I supposed to be doing, exactly?"

McGee sighed.

"Just check the bolo we put out on license plate X682F7."

Tony nodded and got to work.

McGee took one last look at the scar tip, then went back to his desk.

**A/N: Ok this is my second NCIS fanfic and I don't know if I should finish it. Please review and let me know if you like it or have and suggestions. And if you like Tony abuse/teenage Tony/Tony-Gibbs-father-son, please read my other story, Don't Make Promises You Can't Keep. Thanks! Please review! Bye!**


	2. Chapter 2

Later in Autopsy…

Gibbs had sent Tony down to autopsy to see what Ducky had. Ducky wasn't there when he arrived.

_Good. _Tony thought to himself.

He unbuttoned the first two buttons of his collar. He usually didn't keep it fully-fastened, but he had to hide the scar on his upper chest from his team mates.

Tony sighed as he remembered how he received the wound.

_*Flashback…_

_Tony sat at the end of the dining table, watching as all of his cousins ate their fill of the gourmet Italian meal, while he stared at an empty plate. After the final course had been served, Tony was pissed off._

_He got out of his chair and walked briskly up to his father._

_He opened his mouth to speak when DiNozzo Senior pushed his own chair out, stood up, and held a three-prong Italian fork up to his neck._

"_C'è un problema, Anthony?" he asked. __**(Translation: "Is there a problem, Anthony?")**_

_Tony gulped._

_Mr. DiNozzo wrinkled his eyebrows in anger._

"_Perché lei non mi risponde, il ragazzo?" he yelled. __**(Translation: "Why aren't you answering me, boy?")**_

_Before Tony had a chance to respond, his father stabbed the fork into his lower neck and dragged it down._

_Tony bit his lip to keep from yelling out in pain. All of his relatives remained seated. Not one attempted to help him. _

_Once his father removed the fork from his neck, Tony walked back to his chair and sat down._

_He could feel the blood slowly dripping down his chest and soaking through his shirt._

_*End Flashback_

When Tony broke out of his phase, he realized his hands were clenched into tight fists. His knuckles were white.

He didn't notice when Ducky came up behind him.

"Anthony!" Ducky exclaimed.

The Scotsman was taken off guard when Tony whipped around, his normally tan complexion now a pasty white.

"Yes si--" Tony stopped himself when he saw that it was only Ducky.

"Anthony, what happened?" Ducky asked, concerned.

Tony stumbled forward with a quick, yet clearly fake, explanation.

"Nothing, Ducky. Just not used to people using my full name. That's all."

Ducky clearly didn't believe him.

"Tony, what's wrong? And don't say your fine."

Tony looked down.

"Nothing, Duck." He answered.

Ducky reached out and placed a gentle finger in the scar.

"Well this doesn't look like nothing."

Tony realized he still had his shirt partially unbuttoned.

His hand flew up to his neck.

"Umm, its…umm…"

Tony tried to think up a quick explanation.

"Anthony, the truth would be nice."

Tony sighed.

"Well, um, I was playing football with my cousins and we got a little rough."

Ducky didn't look convinced.

"What football injury would cause a deep laceration like that?"

Tony just turned and started walking towards the elevator.

"Anthony!" Ducky called.

Tony turned on his heel and went back.

"Oh yeah, Gibbs wants to know what you got."

"Well nothing yet, but Tony I really think--"

Tony turned and left again, calling a quick thanks as the elevator doors closed.

Ducky looked down at the body and sighed.

"Sometimes I really worry about that boy."

As expected, the dead Lieutenant didn't answer back.

__________

Gibbs wasn't happy when tony told him that Ducky had nothing.

"What do you mean he has nothing?" Gibbs yelled.

"Well, boss, he just sent Abby the blood and stomach contents and well…" Tony stuttered.

"Dammit!" Gibbs shouted and headed to autopsy. Tony rubbed a hand through his hair and sighed.

__________

In autopsy…

Gibbs came into autopsy and crossed to the farthest table where the dead girls body was in the current autopsy.

"Duck, tell me you have something!" Gibbs demanded.

"Hello to you too, Jethro. I just sent Anthony up with the message that I do not."

"I was hoping he wasn't serious." Gibbs responded, avoiding eye contact with the body of the dead girl.

"Jethro, I've been worried about Anthony."

"Tony?" Gibbs asked, irritated.

"Yes. Have you taken one good look at him since he arrived?"

"No Duck! He's fine!"

Ducky looked into Gibbs' eyes.

"Jethro, he's a wreck. There's a scratch on his lower neck. Claims it was just some football accident with his cousins. But no know football injury would involve a deep gash like that."

There was a faint glimmer of worry in Gibbs' eyes, but it was soon replaced with a look of sheer annoyance.

"He's fine, Duck. Call me when you got something." Gibbs said as he headed out of autopsy.

Ducky looked sadly down at the little girl.

"Yet I have a feeling he is anything _but_ fine."

_________

Tony was sitting at his desk checking the bolo. Ziva was studying him. No one else was in the bull pen.

"How was your reunion?" Ziva asked, trying to sound casual.

"Fine." he answered curtly.

She raised an eyebrow.

"Care to explain?" Ziva asked.

"Nope." Tony answered.

Ziva looked closely as he got up and walked to Ziva's desk.

"Why are you limping?" Ziva asked curiously.

Tony's eyes grew slightly wider.

"I'm not."

"Yes you are." She countered.

"Football injury." He lied.

She nodded skeptically.

_________

Gibbs walked into the bullpen and look at his agents' desks. Only Ziva was there. She noticed Gibbs and got up, crossing to his desk. She hesitated before talking.

"Gibbs, I am worried about Tony."

When Gibbs didn't respond, she continued.

"He was limping earlier and claims it was a football injury. But he looked down and to the left when he said it, so he must have been lying. And he seems distracted. Ducky told me that he… how do you say it… jumped out of his skin, when called by his first name."

Gibbs didn't answer. He only stood up and headed to the elevator. He shouted over his shoulder.

"Going for coffee."

________

Tony went home earlier than he usually would during a serious case like this. He stopped in front of his apartment door and sighed.

That family reunion was the first time in years he had seen his father. For a while he almost forgot all about the horrible memories, aside from the occasional nightmare that caused him to wake up in a cold sweat, yelling out in fear.

He dug his hand through his pocket before pulling out his key.

He turned it in the lock and pushed his door open. The first thing he did was head to the fridge for a bottle of vodka. He decided on drowning the memories in liquor. It wasn't common for Tony, but it sure as hell worked.

After taking a swig from the bottle, tony sat on his couch and allowed his thoughts to consume him.

________

Gibbs went into his basement that night, thinking about the concern for Tony that seemed to radiate through his team. They wanted him to speak with Tony, but in his opinion, DiNozzo was fine.

He tended to take it for granted that Tony didn't seem to have any problems.

But his team, especially Abby, had been very adamant that he needed to do something.

So he made up his mind and got in his car, heading for Tony's apartment. Maybe he could get some information out of him.


	3. Chapter 3

When Gibbs arrived at the apartment complex, he headed straight to Tony's place. De didn't bother to knock. Tony had given him a key long ago.

Gibbs was almost ashamed at his senior agents form form slumped against the wall. He was huddled in a fetal position clutching a half-full bottle of vodka.

Gibbs walked over to the ma n and knelt down beside him.

"DiNozzo?"

Tony's eyes lazily opened, revealing bloodshot, contracted pupils.

"Boss?"

His voice was slightly slurred, but he wasn't too drunk yet.

"DiNozzo? What the hell are you doing?"

Tony's face was covered in hurt, the alcohol not allowing him to mask it. Tony didn't answer. He knew that when he was drunk, or on painkillers, he tended to ramble incessantly and reveal things he'd rather have kept private.

Gibbs wasn't going to let him remain silent, He needed answers.

"Tony, what's been going on with you lately?"

Tony stared past Gibbs at the door, as if he were trying to telepathically send Gibbs away.

"I'm fine." He stated bluntly.

"DiNozzo, cut the act, you're not fine."

When Tony faced Gibbs with unshed tears, the previously distracted exmarine finally realized how distraught his senior agent was. Tony's entire body was wracked by shakes and silent sobs. Part of this could be side effects of the alcohol, but there was definitely something very wrong.

Gibbs slumped down against the wall beside Tony, ignoring the protest from his knees. Gibbs repeated himself, with the edge of anger now nonexistent.

"You're not fine."

Tony knew he had no way around this. But he didn't want to risk digging too deep into his past. So he made it short and simple.

"Bad reunion. That's all."

He hoped Gibbs would leave it at that, but being Gibbs, he didn't.

Gibbs rubbed a gentle finger over the scar on his neck.

"Apparently."

Tony tried a new approach. He completely stone walled Gibbs. He gave no response. Instead he prayed the phone would ring or someone would knock. Anything to make it stop.

As if God hear him, Gibbs' cell phone rang.

Gibbs seemed like he was about to ignore it, but knowing it could be important, he flipped it open.

"This better be important!" Gibbs shouted into the phone.

It was McGee.

"Well…uh…boss..we…uh…they…" McGee stuttered.

"Spit it out, McGee!"

"Sorry Boss. They found two more dead girls. One was off-base near Quantico. The other was buried in a child's sandbox behind a house on base."

Gibbs immediately snapped into protect-mode. He pushed Tony completely out of his mind. He snapped his phone shut and grabbed his coat.

"They found two more bodies. When you're sober, get your ass to NCIS." Gibbs yelled at Tony as he headed out.

Tony was relieved the conversation was over, but still hurt at how Gibbs immediately stopped caring as soon as he found out that two strangers were dead. That was how it always was. People pretended that they really cared, but as soon as someone of something more important comes along, they were gone.

He was used to it.

The door slammed shut.

Tony slid down the wall a little more, and took a final swig of vodka, awaiting the hangover that was soon to come.

_________

Gibbs arrived at the first crime scene in record time. It was the girl found in the sandbox.

McGee was pulling something out of the victims pocket. He looked at it for a moment before bringing it over to Gibbs.

"The killer shoved a note in her pocket, boss." McGee stated.

Gibbs took the note and read it over quickly, noting that it was written on the back of a picture.

(Note:)

NCIS-

I know what you're thinking, but I had nothing to do with that dead Navy guy in the park. He was in the dumpster. That's where I wanted to dump the girls body, so I moved him out. I put his dog tags out just for you. Have fun with this investigation. Catch me if you can.

(End note.)

Gibbs stopped reading and flipped over to the front of the picture. It was crinkled and folded several times with the picture was clear as day.

It was a girl. She was tied with heavy ropes to a chair in the middle of a shadowed room. Her hair was matted together, her eyes bloodshot.

McGee had just registered the beginning of the note. This person hadn't killed the Navy Lieutenant.

"Boss, we have another killer."

A/N: Ok that was the part where in the show they go gray and then cut to commercial. Ha ha. Ok I know that this was a short chapter but I have midterms starting Tuesday and I need to study. And sorry for any spelling or grammar errors in my story. I have no editor. Please leave reviews! Thanks!


	4. Chapter 4

Tony didn't show up for work until 4:00 that afternoon. He wasn't going to show up for work hungover. Gibbs was already beyond pissed.

"DiNozzo! What the hell do you think you're doing? I told you to get your ass back to NCIS! I didn't say to wait a day and come in when you feel like it!'

Tony winced and didn't make any move to retaliate. Gibbs seemed to be the only one who didn't notice that Tony's hands were shaking , and his pupils were retracted so far that his eyes were almost purely green.

"Sorry boss. Won't happen again." Came Tony's quick response.

"And don't apologize!" Gibbs snapped as he stalked off towards the elevator. He was hoping Abby could calm him down. (As was everybody else.) Ziva and McGee's eyes met. Ziva leaned her head towards the elevator, indicating for him to meet her there. McGee nodded and they both stood and non-chalantly walked over to the elevator.

Once the door slid closed Ziva faced McGee and they said in unison, "Ducky."

Ziva hit the button to take them down to autopsy. They knew the elderly ME could talk to Gibbs about this, And if he couldn't, they may as well start planning Tony's funeral, because he didn't seem he could take much more.

In Abby's lab, Gibbs had just entered and held out a fresh Caf-Pow to the young Goth. She took it gratefully and began gulping down the caffeinated drink. Gibbs noticed the other multiple Caf-Pow cups accumulating in the trashcan.

_They should be in the bio-hazard trashcan. _Gibbs thought to himself.

Abby was busily typing and searching through numerous files.

"Abbs, whatd'ya got?" he asked, noticing that whatever was on the screen didn't seem to be related to their current case.

"Gibbs, I know you don't like apologies, but I'm sorry. I'm not working on the case right now."

"Then what _are_ you doing Abby?" Gibbs asked, the anger evidently growing in his voice.

"Looking through Tony's records and recent credit card activity."

"Why?" he asked, the anger now completely legible in his voice.

"Gibbs! Can't you see that something's wrong? Tony's all pale and distracted. And he's _limping_!" Abby said, exasperated.

"Abbs, he's fine." Gibbs said, again ignoring the concern for his senior field agent.

"No he's not Gibbs! I ran though his credit cards and he went to a hospital while he was staying in Italy! A _hospital_! Right before leaving on the plane. Gibbs, whatever happened must have been bad. Tony hates hospitals. And his records say his mom died when he was eight! And after that he went to the emergency room at least six times a year, and all the diagnosis' say that there were previous healed fractures and abrasions that they never treated. Gibbs, I think his father hurt him."

After finally finishing, Abby took a deep breath and waited for Gibbs to respond. When he didn't, Abby did something that no one else on the entire team would have done to Gibbs. She brought her hand up and smacked him upside the head.

The marine in Gibbs was telling him to grab her arm and maneuver it into a painfully-restricting position behind her back. But he knew he couldn't do that to Abby. All he could do was give her his best intimidating glare and change the subject.

"What do you have on the case, Abbs?"

Abby sighed and turned back to the computer screen.

"Nothing much, yet. I'm scanning the note for any sign of DNA. I also took a sample of handwriting. I'm running it through APHIS now. We got a hit when I scanned the picture into the computer. The girl is Jennifer Mitchell She just turned fourteen a month ago. Her parents are Lieutenant Lynn Mitchell and Corporal Jonathon Mitchell. I'm printing their address now." Abby said and clicked the print key on her keyboard.

"Thanks Abby." Gibbs said as he left her lab, whisking the paper out of the printer as he went.

Abby watched the silver-haired man leave and quickly turned back to her screen, typing furiously. In a second she had hacked into Tony's father's email account. There were 872 emails in the inbox, only 5 of them new. She took a deep breath and started reading at the first one dated, November 6, 1988.

__________

The team was on their way to the Mitchell's house. Gibbs was driving well beyond the speed limit while the team swallowed down nauseous bile. By the time they finally pulled into the driveway, all that could be heard was deep breathing and McGee hyperventilating.

Gibbs was the first to leave the car with the others following close behind.

A tall man with graying hair and chiseled features answered the door.

"Are you Corporal Jonathon Mitchell?" Gibbs asked.

"Ex-corporal. I left the marines six months ago. Look, whatever you're selling, I'm not interested," Mr. Mitchell said in an irritated voice and started to shut the door.

Gibbs put his hand out to stop it from closing. He pulled out his badge and flipped it open to show his ID.

"Special Agent Gibbs NCIS."

Mr. Mitchell didn't look impressed.

"What, is that like FBI?"

Gibbs chuckled slightly.

"Can we ask you a couple questions, Mr. Mitchell?"

"I geuss" he answered before motioning them inside. Once Gibbs was seated on the couch across from Mr. Mitchell, who was slouching in an arm chair, Mrs Mitchell entered the living room.

"John, who are these people?" she asked nervously.

"NCIS ma'am," Gibbs answered for him, "we're here about your daughter."

Mrs Mitchell's face suddenly scrunched up in confusion.

"She's not here. She's been at horse back riding camp for the past week. Did something happen? Did she fall off her horse? What is this about?" she asked frantically.

Gibbs was never one to be good with words, so he just came out and said it.

"Ma'am, we found this photo at a crime scene."

He held out the picture face down. Mr. Mitchell reached forward in front of his wife and took it. He flipped it over in his fingers and held it up to the light, squinting.

"Oh God!" he said loudly and dropped the photo. Mrs. Mitchell picked it up off the floor and looked at it. She gasped and tears instantly came flooding out.

"Oh God that's her, that's my baby!" she said between sobs.

Her husband was consoling her as she wept. Gibbs offered no comfort. No matter how distraught they appeared to be, he couldn't count them out of being suspects yet.

"Mr. Mitchell do you know any of these girls? Maybe they're Jennifer's friends?" Tony asked and held out pictures of the girls currently in autopsy.

Mr. Mitchell took them and began flipping through them. One particular picture caused a spark of recognition in the exhausted man's eyes. His wife stopped sobbing long enough to spare a glance at the picture.

"This was her best friend." He mumbled, staring fixedly at the photo.

"Who?" Gibbs questioned further.

Mr. Mitchell held the picture forward. It was the girl they found the note with. The girl dumped in a sand box. The picture being viewed right then was her class photo.

"Her name was Grace Bennett. She was having some… some issues at home and we let her come over here often to get away from it all." He said with a sigh.

Gibbs nodded and made a mental note of the girl's name. He definitely knew who was next on his suspect list. Parents of troubled children weren't always the friendliest of people.

__________

After asking a few more questions Gibbs left the Mitchell house and called Abby.

"I need an address. Parents of Grace Bennett." He barked into the phone.

"Nice to talk to you too, Gibbs." Abby answered sarcastically.

"Abbs!" Gibbs yelled in desperate attempt to get her back on track.

"Jeez, Gibbs, somebody didn't have their daily dose of caffeine yet today."

Gibbs ran a hand down his face. He heard a ding from Abby's side of the line.

"Ok the Bennett family lives on 14 Elm Wood on base."

Gibbs muttered a quick, "Thanks Abbs" before snapping his cell phone shut.

The team drove to the Bennett's house in a matter of minutes.

Before they got to the front door they could sense something odd about the house. It was seemingly quiet. Most houses with a thirteen year old girl living in it would have some sort of music blasting or other sounds. Any evidence that Grace was known to be living there.

Gibbs knocked on te door and immediately heard dogs barking their heads off. Gibbs was never much of a dog person, but he had a special way with them that no one could quite figure out.

Suddenly the door opened to reveal a woman who at first glance appeared to be around the age of 28 or 29. At a closer look you could see the laugh lines and grey hairs poking through that showed the true age, which must have been in the early forties. She was hollering commands that neither of the two dogs appeared to be listening to.

A screen door still separated them. Gibbs knew that they would be mauled by dogs as soon as that small barrier was opened.

Although luckily, she coaxed them into another room and made a sound indicating that a kennel door had been shut.  
The woman came back to the door with a fake smile plastered across her face. She opened the door wide.

"Special Agent Gibbs NCIS. DiNozzo, David, McGee." He said motioning to the agents behind him. He pulled out his badge and flipped it open.

The woman waved her hand for them to come inside.

"Hello." She greeted, eyeing Tony slightly.

Tony smiled at her, but kept his mind on the case, not in the gutter.

"Ma'am, is this your daughter?" Gibbs asked as he pulled out a picture of the girl previously identified as Grace Bennett.

The woman took it and examined it carefully.

"Yes. Why? Is something wrong?" she asked with fake concern.

Gibbs pulled out the second picture taken of her in autopsy. The one he hadn't shown to the Mitchells. Mrs. Bennett took it from him and was immediately overcome with a look of terror, which couldn't quite be determined as genuine.

"H-How did this happen?" Oh God she can't be dead!"

Gibbs looked her in the eyes.

"Where is your husband, Mrs. Bennett?" he asked.

Immediately her face hardened and her eyes narrowed.

"My soon to be _ex_-husband is out. Why do you ask?"

Before Gibbs could answer a girl about the age of sixteen entered the room. She was tall and resembled Grace greatly.

Before turning to face her daughter, Mrs. Bennett replaced the stern look with the fake depression they had seen before.

"Bethany, Grace is dead." She said bluntly.

Bethany didn't answer.

Mrs. Bennett moved forward to pull Bethany into a light hug.

Bethany remained with her arms plastered to her sides, making no attempt at returning the embrace.

A moment later Mrs. Bennett released Bethany and turned back the NCIS agents. Tony paid close attention to the actions of Mrs. Bennett. In a way, she reminded him of his own mother.

She was fit, artificially tan, and definitely spent a decent amount of time on her appearance. She wore clothes that weren't meant for her age. Currently she had on jeans that were extremely tight on top and flared out slightly on the bottom. She also had on a tank top that showed off about an inch of her stomach, which was tighter than most mothers. Her teeth were as white as a lawyers'.

Tony never liked lawyers.

He never liked his mother either.

He began to wonder just how many similarities Mrs. Bennett and his own mother shared.

He stifled a shiver.

**A/N: I tried making this chapter longer on account of a rude review I received on my last chapter. Whoever left the review signed "Anonymous" and chewed me out for the short chapter, I ask that you keep your negative thoughts to yourself please. I have many things going on in my life right now and don't always have time to write a super-long chapter.**

**Well on a positive note, there will be a big "Gibbs realization" scene in the next chapter. And it's a pretty dramatic one too! Please pretty please review! And not just "nice job" or "update soon". I mean advice, thoughts, ideas, **_**constructive**_** criticism, the whole shebang. (He he I like that word… SHEBANG!!!) More reviews, more quick updates. Longer reviews, longer chapters. That's how it works. Ok I'll stop jabbering (he he I like that word too). R&R PLEASE! :D**


	5. Chapter 5

Abby scrolled through Tony's father's emails until she reached the bottom of the list, to an email dated November 6, 1988. It was from a man named Keith Langsten. She opened it and began reading.

_Email:_

_Mr. DiNozzo-_

_ I received your email about Anthony. And yes, I do think that _

_16 is old enough for military school. Although, before you try that, I_

_have a better idea. Send him to my house tomorrow night at 7:00 sharp. _

_I'll straighten him out for you._

_-Keith L._

_End Email_

Abby's eyes were the size of golf balls, and her mouth was hanging on it's hinges. She went into the sent box and quickly opened the reply.

_Email:_

_Mr. Langsten-_

_ Sounds wonderful. Anthony needs some straightening out. _

_And tomorrow is his 16__th__ birthday. What a perfect present._

_I'll have our driver drop him off. _

_-Anthony D. Sr._

_End Email_

Abby hopped out of her chair and screamed out, "That bitch!"

McGee was just walked out of the elevator when he heard Abby scream.

"Who?" he questioned curiously.

"Tony's father!" Abby shouted still fuming.

"Ummm… Abby… he's a… well… a he."

"I know what I said McGee." Abby said glaring at his attempt to correct her.

"Can I ask why?"

Abby pointed a stiff finger at the screen where she had both emails opened and pursed her lips.

McGee walked over and read both emails.

"Did you call Gibbs?" he immediately questioned.

"Not yet." Abby said as she picked up the lab phone, dialing Gibbs' number.

_________

Gibbs just arrived back at NCIS when he received a frantic call from Abby ordering him to get to the lab right away. He rode in the elevator, wondering if this was about the case or some stupid thing to do with DiNozzo again. Gibbs was starting to become more aware of Tony's shattering state, but worry was still pushed from his mind when thoughts of that girl being tortured at the moment, Jennifer Mitchell. When he got to the lab, Abby was staring wide-eyed at the computer screen next to McGee.

"Boss you might want to come see this." McGee said noticing the presence of the team leader.

Gibbs stalked over and squinted at the screen. He didn't have his glasses on him so he had to move so close to the screen he was practically against it. The two windows open on the screen were emails.

"Abbs you can't just hack into anyone's emails unless they're a suspect." He said, irritated.

"Gibbs just read them! Now!" Abby yelled in desperation.

Gibbs sighed and gave in, quickly reading both emails. A particular line caught his attention.

_What a perfect present._

Gibbs read that line over and over before finally processing everything and whipped around.

"McGee, get Mr. DiNozzo on the phone. I'm going out for coffee."

McGee nodded and turned to the computer. He and Abby both felt like a huge weight of worry had been lifted off their shoulders. Gibbs was finally realizing what was wrong with Tony. Finally.

________

Gibbs was heading down the street towards his favorite coffee stand. Multiple thoughts were swarming through his head all at once. He knew that Tony was in trouble, and that Abby must be right. If Tony went to a hospital in Italy, the only possible situation would be that his father hurt him. And that email was proof that there had been serious abuse in Tony's childhood, but every time he tried feeling sympathy for his senior field agent, the picture of Jennifer Mitchell tied to a chair assaulted his mind. As well did the photos of the dead girls at the crime scenes. He looked up when he was a streets-length away from the coffee stand. He saw a familiar figure standing by the cart ordering coffee. Tony.

Gibbs noticed something strange in Tony's posture. He was trembling slightly, and his eyes appeared glazed over, as if his body was there but his mind was somewhere far, far away, nestled in a sea of memories. After paying the man and accepting his coffee, Tony walked over to the tree nearby (since they were in Rock Creek Park, many trees were scattered around) and sat on the bench in front of it with a heavy sigh.

Gibbs ordered his usual black coffee, and proceeded to go sit next to Tony. Tony didn't even notice his boss' presence. His eyes were still glazed over, and he was staring out into space, completely zoned out from the world. A sharp word from Gibbs brought him out of his thoughts.

"DiNozzo."

Tony's head shot up, and for a split second, a flash of fear was noticeable in his eyes. But as quickly as it had appeared, it was gone when Tony realized it was his boss that had called his name.

"Boss." Tony greeted, trying to get his bearings.

Gibbs studied Tony for a moment, concluding that Tony was still trying to remember exactly where he was. Gibbs wasn't one to beat around the bush, so he came out with it.

"Why didn't you tell me your father hurt you, Tony?"

Tony's pupils grew slightly wider. Gibbs pretended not to notice.

"How did you-" Tony started to ask.

"Abby hacked into your father's email account and found one from a man named Keith Langsten."

Tony stiffened at the mention of that name.

"W-What about?" Tony asked, trying to act like he really didn't recognize the name.

"It was the day before your sixteenth birthday. They mentioned something about teaching you a lesson. Sound familiar?"

Tony's mind was immediately assaulted with memories of the man who still haunted him to this day. It was simply too much for him to handle. Tony stood, feeling wobbly on his feet and had to clutch onto the tree for support. He tried walking away but couldn't, so he slumped down on the tree and slid into he was in a crouching position on the ground. Black clouds swam around the edges of his eyes, but he refused to let the darkness pull him in. He buried his eyes in his hands.

"I'll take that as a yes." Gibbs mumbled before slouching down next to his agent, his knees creaking.

Tony made no move to respond. Gibbs wasn't good with words of comfort, but he could listen.

"You wanna talk about it?" he asked.

"Not really." Tony said, his voice muffled by his hands.

"You're gonna have to, sooner or later. If he hurt you, we need to get him behind bars as soon as possible before he hurts anyone else."

Tony nodded slightly. He definitely wasn't in the mood to go into a deep conversation about his non-existent childhood, so he would only talk about Keith. And hopefully Gibbs wouldn't make the connection that his father was much, much worse than Mr. Langsten.

"It was my sixteenth birthday," Tony started, "and my dad told me that my friend Dan called. Dan Langsten. So my driver took me to his house. But when I got inside," Tony took a deep breath, then continued, "his dad was standing there. He was holding his belt. I couldn't move. He was pretty big, so I had to do what he said. He told me to go down into the basement. When we got down there, he had me take off my shirt and lay on the ground face-down. Then he whipped me. The belt stung. He didn't stop. I bit my tongue so hard to keep from screaming that my tongue started bleeding. And after a couple hours, he went back upstairs and locked the door. I was down there for…"

Tony stopped and held back the few tears threatening to fall. He regained his cool and said, "about a week. When I got home, my dad didn't believe me. He sent me to my room."

Gibbs stared at Tony. He couldn't believe that Tony went through that, and didn't even know his own father had set it up.

"Go home. Get some sleep." Gibbs said as he struggled to stand up.

Tony turned to his boss.

"I can't go home now. That girl needs me. Please let me stay Gibbs."

Gibbs sighed and nodded his permission, letting rule eighteen slide for now. The two men walked back to NCIS in silence, to find that McGee was still in Abby's lab, and Ziva was bent over a book of some sort at her desk.

"David! Stop reading and get back to the case!" Gibbs snapped.

"Gibbs this is Grace's journal. I found it when I went back to the Bennett's house."

Gibbs immediately put Tony out of his mind, again, and walked over to Ziva's desk. Tony didn't get bothered by it as much this time. He decided to go visit Abby and McGee.

Gibbs had had an idea stirring around in his head since he talked to Tony. He had no choice but to ask.

"Any mention of being abused in the journal?" Gibbs asked, hoping he wouldn't get a bad answer.

"No. Well, not physically or sexually at least. But I asked Ducky about it, and he says that he recognizes what he called, emotional or psychological abuse. She mentions several times that her mother is always yelling at her, and if she makes any move to retaliate, it just gets worse. She feels like everything she does is wrong. This is a line from her journal." Ziva said and began reading a line she had bookmarked.

"_It's like I have to watch what I say in my own home. I go to my friend's house and see their family laughing, and joking together. I see such small levels of tension. I almost feel, envious. I used to think that the way I grew up was normal, but now I see that I was terribly, terribly wrong. And now there are so many secrets, so many lies. So many fake smiles. I hate it. Why was I stuck with this family?"_

Ziva finished reading and looked up at Gibbs. He was rubbing a hand down his face.

**A/N: I would like to correct a few points. For one thing, when I said I wanted longer reviews, it was just a hopeful suggestion. I do greatly appreciate people who review, no matter how long or short it may be. I was just asking and I'm sorry for all those people who got mad at me. I don't like people being mad at me! Do you forgive me? **

**And I'd like to thank all my reviewers especially people like NCISaddiction10, Anjelik, and Gloworm who review every chapter of mine. It makes me happy. And thank you for the amazing review from sundarkeyes. It was so nice!**

**Please review if you have time! It would be greatly appreciated! If you have any ideas or constructive critiscm, I'm all ears. **

**And I know that not many people would have email in 1988, but I looked it up and some people in offices or rich people had email, so its fine. Thanks for the concern though! If it had been false information I would have changed it. **

**R&R!**

**-AgentDiNozzo13 :D **


	6. Chapter 6

Tony walked cautiously into Abby's lab. Her usual blasting music was absent, as were the constant beeps and dings from her multiple machines. Abby herself was practically face-to-face with her computer, with McGee in a similar position next to her. They whipped around at the sound of his entrance and Abby hit a button, causing the computer screen to go black. Tony raised an eyebrow quizzically.

"Watcha' doin there Abbs?" he asked curiously.

"What? Where? Um, nothing. I'm not working on anything." she babbled.

Tony gave them a look that said he obviously wasn't going to fall for it, but they still wouldn't give him a straight-forward answer. He was about to give up when Gibbs entered the lab holding a small book. It was latched together with a silver lock and was made out of a black-leather like material. Tony had guessed what it was before Gibbs even had the chance to say it.

"That's Grace's journal, isn't it boss?" Tony asked quietly.

Gibbs gave a curt nod and handed it to Abby.

"I need you to take this down to Ducky. Have him do a physiological profile on Grace Bennett. I'm going out for coffee." Gibbs said and headed towards the elevator.

"Didn't he just go out for coffee?" McGee whispered to no one in particular.

Tony nodded slowly and turned to the black screen of Abby's computer. He rebooted it and brought up a search page. He typed in, "Jennifer Mitchell". The computer quickly came up with six matches, one for a MySpace profile. Tony opened it to find a picture of a girl with dark brown hair and slightly tan skin, her arms wrapped around a panting black lab. She was smiling widely at the camera. Tony scrolled down to the comment section. He skimmed past all left by her friends, and stopped at a comment signed 'anonymous'.

The comment was what Tony was suspicious of. It said:

_September-1986_

_RIP_

And it ended just like that.

"Do a back trace on the computer used to leave this comment." Tony said to Abby.

She hesitated for a moment, but after reading the comment she quickly understood and started scanning. After a few minutes her computer made a beep noise and a name appeared, along with an address and phone number.

"Seaman Daniels. He accessed this profile six days ago from a computer at this address." She said as she printed the address.

"Probie, with me." Tony said as he rushed out of Abby's lab.

McGee followed, trying to catch up with Tony before the elevator doors closed. He made it just in time.

_________

When they got to the car, Tony ordered McGee to get out his laptop. McGee did as told, and under Tony's command he searched the Seaman's name. An online blog popped up in response. McGee read quickly through an entry title 'Always in my Memory'.

"Tony this may be important." McGee said after reading the short entry for the fifth time.

"Then spit it out probie!" Tony said as he drove high above the speed limit towards Seaman Daniels house in Fairfax.

"Well I found an online blog by Daniels. This is one of the entries." McGee said and started reading the entry aloud.

"Rest in peace to a beloved friend, Anne Bowen. Although your life had to end so quickly, I will always remember your smiling face. The way you walked to my house every day, whether it be 100 degrees or 20 below, your trusty lab trotting at your heels. You will always be in my memory."

Tony thought about it for a moment before making a suggestion.

"Maybe he thinks Jennifer is this girl. I mean the descriptions match perfectly." He said.

"But if that's it, then the date left on Jennifer's profile must be when Anne died. What was the date?"

Tony scrunched his eyebrows in thought before answering.

"September 1985."

"Sounds about right if he's now an adult and Anne was a childhood friend."

Tony didn't answer, but McGee nearly had a stroke as the car lurched forward with extra force. Tony's foot was jamming down on the accelerator. In five minutes they had pulled up outside Seaman Daniels house. Tony hopped out before the car even came to a full stop.

The house was a one level, modern house with no signs of a family or children. There was no car in the driveway, but the two car garage was closed with tinted windows. Tony and Tim walked side by side up to the door. Tony knocked casually and waited. When nothing but silence followed, he yelled out, "Federal Agents". Still no response came. He added, "Seaman Daniels, we need to ask you a few questions." The response was a loud thud. The two NCIS agents immediately pulled their guns from their holsters and held them at arms length. McGee stood back and allowed Tony to bust down the door with a powerful kick. The wooden door gave out easily and pieces flew in all directions. Tony and Tim walked in cautiously with their guns extended, and split up into different rooms.

Tony heard Tim shout "clear" from the kitchen, and was about to do the same, when he heard a rustling sound from behind the couch. There wasn't a very big area vacant behind the couch, but there was definitely something, or someone, back there. Tony took soft slow steps to the right side of the couch, gun still at point in front of him. His finger had moved from rightful position on the side of the gun to rest on the trigger. Another loud movement was heard from behind the couch, but Tony kept moving forward. By now McGee had come in and was walking around the left side, gun drawn in the same position. They both came as close to the couch as safely possible and were about to lean over when a large black blur shot out from behind and went whizzing by them, landing with a thud on the carpet. They both whipped around and waited as the lump uncurled itself and turned to face them.

It was a fully grown black and tan Doberman pinscher. There was a studded collar hanging on its neck and its teeth were gleaming with saliva. Tony glanced over at McGee.

"I think this is your area of expertise, McGruff."

"Very funny Tony." Tim replied, his gun aimed at the dog's forehead.

"You know if you shoot two dogs in one year, Abby will pretty much disown you.

McGee scrunched up his eyebrows in frustration, remembering the German Shepherd that had been accused of murder earlier in the year. It had attacked him when he was searching the back of the house, so he was forced to shoot it. The dog didn't die, and was actually currently living with him. But ever since then he hadn't had very good luck with dogs, especially this particular breed. Lets just say guard dog aren't always too friendly.

The dog took a step forward, teeth still bared protectively. Tim held his gun out as far as possible.

Both men were surprised when the dog jumped at Tim, but instead of sinking his teeth into him, he started licking him all over, leaving lines of slobber on his face. Tony glanced at the dogs ID tag, which said 'Duchess'. Tony was grinning from ear to ear.

"Aw, Timmy finally found a girl friend. And a purebred too."

McGee looked up from where he was now on the ground, still being attacked with kisses. He glared at Tony with a look that said _very funny_.

Tony only smiled and took a picture of Tim with his cell phone. It came out as McGee with his nose scrunched up in mid-sneeze, and the dog's long pink tongue wiping across his face.

__________

Tony walked into an empty bullpen. McGee had gone down to Abby's lab with the Duchess. She was sure to have a field day getting evidence off of her.

He got into the elevator to head to autopsy, but surprisingly, Ducky was already in the elevator.

"Hey Ducky, I was just going down to see you." He greeted.

Ducky looked up at Tony with the gentle eyes of an old man.

"Anthony, there's something you should know." He said to the now panicked agent.

"What might that be?"

"Well, you may want to see for yourself." Ducky replied and hit the button to take them to interrogation.

Tony looked at the elder ME quizzically for the entire ride down. When they finally reached the right floor, Tony had a knot in his stomach the size of a baseball. He walked side-by-side with Ducky to Interrogation Room 5. They went into the observation room. Tony walked over the plate-glass window and peered through.

Ducky noticed the young man's face suddenly lose all color. He was staring through the glass at his father, who was calmly sitting at the table in the center of the room. He was glaring at the glass as if he knew Tony was standing on the other side. Before Tony could say anything, Gibbs marched into the interrogation room. It was only then that Tony realized Ziva was in the room. She had moved up beside him. Tony stared silently through the glass.

Gibbs was standing in the far corner, sipping coffee. He seemed to be in no rush. Mr. DiNozzo was still seated at the table, looking irritated. Tony was hoping inside that his father wouldn't pick now to speak in English. He was pretty sure Ziva didn't speak Italian, and he would have preferred it if she didn't listen to this conversation. However his secret hopes were dashed when his father muttered an angry question.

"What did _Anthony_ do now?" he said with a heavy Italian accent.

Gibbs came over and sat across from him at the table.

"I think a better question would be, what did Tony do to deserve whatever crap you've been giving him."

Tony's father's eyes narrowed and he began shouting in Italian. Ziva turned to Tony and asked, "What is he saying?"

Tony gulped and answered, "Nothing you want to hear."

Ziva looked at him for a second longer before turning back to the window.

Mr. DiNozzo had stopped yelling and was waiting for Gibbs to say something. He didn't have to wait long.

"We went into your email and found several written when Tony was a teenager. They were to a man named Keith Langston. Name ring any bells?"

Mr. DiNozzo hid any feelings he might have had at the mention of that name behind his dark emotionless eyes. Gibbs continued.

"According to those emails, you sent your son to Mr. Langston on his 16th birthday, and he was going to _straighten him out._"

Tony's father kept his face cool and calm.

"You have no proof that anything happened other than a stern conversation." He countered.

"We have a witness statement."

The Italian man's face took on a look of slight panic.

"Who?"

"Your son."

Tony gulped. He was internally cussing himself out for revealing so much to Gibbs about Keith Langston. He didn't think he could take watching this. He soon realized he wouldn't have to, because his father suddenly lunged across the table and had Gibbs' neck in a vice-grip. He was slamming him against the wall in pure rage. Tony and Ziva immediately ran into the interrogation room and ripped Mr. DiNozzo off of Gibbs. Gibbs ran over and took Tony's place securing his father's right arm, while Ziva held onto his left. Tony went a few feet in front of his father and faced him. His father glared back with pure hate.

Tony didn't know what to say, so he just said what he was thinking.

"You know what happened. You set it up! You-You called up Langston and set it up, on my BIRTHDAY! How did you-why did you-what-what- dad?"

He said the last word in a pleading sort of way.

"What are you talking about, you insufferable bastard?" he spat at his son.

The scared little boy inside him was gone. Tony felt hot anger rising inside him, and knew he had to let it out.

"What I'm talking about is that you are a horrible father! You were never there for me, you-you freakin beat me senseless…" he was about to say 'every single day', but stopped himself and lied, "once and when mom died, were you a shoulder to cry on? NO! You went out to the bar and slept with a bunch of whores! This is my real family! They actually care about me, and I care about them!"

"You're saying you would choose these American _imbeciles_ over your own blood?" he screamed.

Tony's father pulled out of Ziva and Gibbs' grasp and shoved Tony hard in the chest, causing him to stumble back slightly. Ziva and Gibbs once again got Mr. DiNozzo in their grasp and began dragging him out of the interrogation room while Gibbs read him his rights. They were in the doorway when Tony stepped forward to answer his father's question.

"Relatives and family aren't always the same thing."

And with that his father was dragged out of the interrogation room. Tony leaned against the wall on the far side of the room and let out a long breath. A few minutes later Ziva walked in. She walked over close to him and whispered, "Are you alright, Tony?"

He wasn't sure how to respond. Truthfully, he wasn't. But he definitely wouldn't tell her that.

"Yeah."

She surprised him with what she did next. She wrapped him in a light hug. He was tense and unsure at first, but hugged back after a moment. They stayed like that for several moments. Tony liked the feeling that someone was concerned for him, and almost didn't want it to end. But she let go, and he looked away. She looked slightly embarrassed and left. Tony sighed headed out of the room. He didn't know where in the building he was headed for, he just didn't want to be in that room anymore.

**A/N: Ok don't freak out, this isn't turning into a Tiva fic, I just added that last part for some Tony comfort for my friend. I promised her. **

**And a large large large thank you to Brown Wolf for their help with the last part of this chapter! I owe so much of the credit for this chapter to them! Thank you!**

**Please review! Reviews make me happy! I'm going for a new record! The most reviews I've received for one chapter is 34. I'm hoping to beat that record and get to 161 at least, 165 as a hopeful goal! Please review! :)**

**And a belated happy birthday to Anjelik!**

**P.S. If anyone has a birthday coming up, I would love to give you a shout out so let me know!**

**Thank you to all my readers!**

**-AgentDiNozzo13**


	7. Chapter 7

After wandering through the hallways of NCIS for awhile, Tony found himself outside of autopsy. He looked through the window on one of the double doors and saw Ducky, bent over his small desk reading files. Grace's journal was in his hands. He knew he shouldn't interrupt Ducky, but he didn't know what else to do or where else to go. He entered and went up behind Ducky, peering over his shoulder at the journal. The ME was more than half way through it, reading intently. Tony doubted his presence had even been noticed.

"Duck?"

Ducky nearly jumped off of his stool.

"Hello Anthony. I didn't expect to see you here. To what do I owe the pleasure?" he asked in his usual caring, grandfatherly voice.

"I don't know. I was in the neighborhood and though I'd check up on that psychological profile." He answered.

"Ah, yes, of course." He placed down the journal and turned to face Tony. "I haven't gotten very far yet, but I have managed to read through most of her school transcripts and half of her journal. My preliminary findings say that Grace Bennett was a rather reserved child. She didn't share her feelings very often, choosing instead to keep them bottled up inside. Her only way of venting was this journal." Ducky indicated the journal with his right hand before continuing.

"That other girl, Jennifer Mitchell, was her best friend. She mentions in her journal that they used to go for walks together with Jennifer's dog if it was nice outside." The ME continued.

Tony thought back to Seaman Daniels again, talking about Anne walking to his house, her trusty lab trotting at her heals.

Ducky continued, not knowing about Tony's connection.

"Grace felt that Jennifer, if anyone, was the only one she could ever really talk to. She still didn't do this often, but if there was something on her mind, Jennifer was the one she would go to. As far as the school report cards and transcripts go, most teachers thought her to be a smart, happy child. They left comments on report cards saying that she needed to participate and speak up more in class, but I doubt she ever did. Grace was so good at hiding her feelings, they never suspected a thing."

Ducky paused to take a deep breath before summing it up.

"She was very interested in animals. Specifically dogs. She wrote in her journal that one day she hoped to work up close with wolves. Another interest was music. Her iPod was used excessively. Some people said they almost never saw her without it in her ears."

Ducky stopped and waited for Tony's response. None came.

"That is all I have found so far. If you give me a while longer I can come up with more details."

Tony nodded and turned towards the door. He stopped when he heard Ducky call his name.

"Anthony?"

Tony turned but remained where he was standing.

"Yeah, Duck?"

"You really do mean a lot to us. Even to Jethro. He may not say it, but you must realize that he really does. Tony, you have a family whether you realize it or not."

Tony nodded and gave a shy smile before turning back towards the doors and exiting autopsy.

__________

In the bullpen…

The entire team, minus Tony, were sitting at their desks trying to locate Seaman Daniels. Tony walked in just as McGee's computer let out a loud beep.

"Boss! We just got a hit on the bolo for Seaman Daniels! Someone saw a man perfectly matching his description walking into an old house in Fairfax." McGee said to Gibbs, prepared to grab his gear at the command.

"Grab your gear." Gibbs shouted on cue.

The team, Tony included, slung on their backpacks and followed Gibbs to the elevator. If they could find Daniels, hopefully they could find Jennifer. Alive.

When the elevator arrived at the parking garage, Gibbs and Ziva got into one car, McGee and Tony in the other.

McGee was riding shot gun with Tony at the wheel, of course. They rode for the first few minutes in silence. McGee was the first to speak.

"Tony, I…"

Tony stopped him by putting up a finger. He looked like he was about to say something back, but instead closed his mouth and put his finger down. McGee wanted to continue talking, to tell Tony that he was sorry and that they all cared about him, but it obviously wasn't what Tony wanted to hear. So they continued to ride in silence. They arrived at the location soon after. It was a rundown old one story house. There were no cars, no people, no sign of life whatsoever. There wasn't even grass, just dirt and weeds. Gibbs and Ziva pulled up behind them. Everyone got out, weapons drawn. Ziva and McGee went around back while Tony and Gibbs took the front.

"Federal Agents."

When no response came, Tony shouted, "Seaman Daniels, NCIS. We need to talk to you."

Gibbs gave him a nod and Tony kicked the front door down with ease. They all rushed in, including Ziva and McGee who had used the same tactic on the back door. Seaman Daniels was there all right. His bulky, military frame was slumped down into an arm chair, a beer bottle in his hand. His eyes were closed, and occasionally a snore was escape his lips. Gibbs and the edged closer, guns still drawn.

"Seaman Daniels!" Gibbs shouted.

The man didn't budge.

"Seaman Daniels!" Tony shouted, slightly louder.

The man woke up then, although rather lazily. He blinked several times, then wiped both eyes thoroughly with the sleeve of his shirt.

"Can I help you?" he asked, irritated.

"Yes. You can help us by voluntarily going back to NCIS to answer some questions." Ziva said to the still-awakening man. By now, Gibbs had melted away and was no longer in the room.

"Why? What did I do?" Daniels asked.

"Nothing. Yet." Ziva said back, growing impatient.

"Ziva." Tony warned.

She huffed and crossed her arms, stepping back.

Gibbs chose that moment to yell from another room, "Cuff him."

Ziva didn't need an explanation. She grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him onto his feet. Before he could gather stability she whipped him around and harshly cuffed his hands together. He protested the entire time, mainly about his fallen beer. Ziva took him out to the car while Tony and McGee went back to see what Gibbs had found.

Gibbs was in the back bedroom. He was kneeling down in front of a grate in the wall. Next to it was a bookcase, obviously moved recently to reveal the barred opening. Gibbs removed the bars and pointed at it, indicating that one of them had to go in. It was fairly big, but Tony wasn't going to go in there.

"McGee will do it." Tony volunteered.

McGee opened his mouth to protest, but stopped when Gibbs said, "Alright McGee, go ahead."

McGee frowned and bent down, peering into the large opening in the wall. He started to crawl in on his hands and knees, trying to avoid the cobwebs and dust coating the inside. It ended in a large opening, big enough for McGee to stand up in at full height. There was a door there, made of metal and stuck right in the middle of the wall. He heard Tony call, "Hey Probie, what's in there?"

"Gibbs, you might want to see this." McGee yelled back.

Seconds later, Tony and Gibbs were crawling through the entrance. Tony stood up and brushed off his pants, complaining about the dust ruining his expensive suit. He stopped mid-dust-brushing when he saw the slumped form laying motionless in the corner. It looked human, but he began to doubt it by the second after examining the unruly hair and clotted blood covering her face. There didn't seem to be any serious injuries, so Tony figured it would be okay to move the body. He crouched down and moved the hair aside. There was no doubt that this was Jennifer Mitchell. Tony put one arm around her back and one under her knees, then picked her up and turned towards the door, exiting with Jennifer hanging limp in his arms. After leaving the small room, he struggled to drag her back through the air vent. When they got out on the other side, Tony picked up Jennifer in the same stance as before and started walking towards the entrance to the hallway. He felt her head move slightly and looked down. Her eyes were beginning to flutter open, and she was now looking up at him with dazed eyes. He held a finger to his lips to indicate silence, and she nodded slightly. The small movement seemed to have drained all of her energy, and she rested her head against Tony's shoulder for support. He could feel her soft, measured breathing on his chest.

Tony peeked his head around the corner of the wall to make sure Daniels was completely secured and handcuffed. Much to his relief, the living room was empty and Ziva could be seen through the window. She was standing outside of the car, staring menacingly at Daniels in the backseat. Although Ziva didn't show it, the death of a young girl effects her ten times more than an adult. She didn't know entirely why, but she was sure it had something to do with the early death of her younger sister Tali. The memories of her much-missed younger sibling were put aside when she saw tony emerge from the house with something hanging in his arms. At closer examination, Ziva saw a limp human's body with long brown hair, blood smearing the clothes. At first glance, the girl resembled Tali. Ziva couldn't mask the gasp she uttered when a picture of Tali's body after the bomb went off flashed through her mind.

"Call an ambulance." Tony said frantically as he came to stand beside Ziva.

"I'll call Ducky." Gibbs added from behind the pair.

McGee came out of the house last, carrying Daniels' computer. Of course.

Ziva hung up the phone at the same time as Gibbs.

"They're on their way." Ziva reported, followed by Gibbs, "Ducky said he'll meet us at the hospital."

Tony looked down at Jennifer again. He could just barely hear her breathing now. It came out in short, rasping breaths, her lungs obviously full of dust and starved of oxygen. It gave him flashbacks of the time he had Pneumonic Plague. He saw her head move to face him, so he reached out a hand to brush her hair away from her mouth.

She mumbled something to him. It was faint and barely audible, but Tony was almost positive it was, "Where are the others?"

**A/N: I know what you're thinking. I haven't updated in forever and I'm sure a lot of you have given up on my story. But please don't! It will get soooo much better in the next chapter! Plenty of sad Tony memories! If you review, it will give me more motivation to write faster. So please review! : )**

**And happy belated birthday to:**

**Ncisiscoolerthanyou**

**Amy and Charlie**

**I think I got all birthdays, but if I forgot let me know and I apologize! And if your birthday is coming up, let me know! I'd be happy to wish you a happy birthday in my next chapter, which I promise will be updated sooner this time. : ) **

**Thanks for reading!**

**-AgentDiNozzo13**

**AND P.S. VERY IMPORTANT!!!!!!!!!!!!! : Ok, on my friends profile there was this list of funny instructions on things, that she got from someone else's profile, and I'd like some help with this, just like it says in the little exerpt. Give me you opinion on this "other use". Thanks! Here it is:**

_On a Japanese food processor:  
"Not to be used for the other use."  
(Now, somebody out there, help me on this. I'm a bit  
curious.)_

**And if you want to read more, and they're hilarious trust me, I have it on my profile. **

**Thanks!**

**Once again,**

**AgentDiNozzo13 : )**


	8. Chapter 8

They had arrived at the hospital well over an hour ago. The doctor's prognosis was that Jennifer would need to be on oxygen for a few days, and needed several broken bones set. All other injuries were emotional, and she would need time to heal from them. Tony was sitting in a chair in the waiting room, rubbing his fingers in circular motions on his temples. Just then the double doors burst open and two worried adults entered. Tony could tell instantly that they were Jennifer's parents. Her mom had practically the exact same face. And her dad had the same tan Italian skin and face. Her mother was weeping into her husband's shoulder as Mr. Mitchell desperately asked the closest nurse where his daughter was. She pointed to the room but told him that no one was allowed in the trauma unit right then. Mr. Mitchell's jaw set as he began to argue, but Mrs. Mitchell had already spotted Tony and was rushing towards him.

"Are you the NCIS agent who called us?" she asked frantically.

"Yeah. Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo." He answered and stood.

Mr. Mitchell followed his wife over to Tony and looked him up and down.

"When can I see my daughter?" he asked Tony.

"Honestly I don't know. We'll have to wait for the doctors, sir."

Tony internally cursed himself for saying 'sir'. It was an old habit from when he was a kid. He had gotten used to not calling Gibbs sir, but it still managed to slip out sometimes.

Mr. Mitchell wasn't exactly thrilled with Tony's answer. He began pacing back and forth in the cramped waiting room. Mrs. Mitchell was beyond crying and was now slumped in a chair, exhausted, muttering something into her hands. It sounded like 'she's gonna be ok, she's gonna be ok…'.

Much to Tony's relief, the doctor came out moments later. Both of Jennifer's parents rushed over to him. The doctor held up a hand, signaling them to remain quiet.

"Your daughter is sleeping. We have her on oxygen and pain-relievers. You can see her now if you'd like, but I suggest that if you must speak to her, wake her gently and don't talk about anything stressful that might raise her blood pressure." The doctor said to the grief-stricken parents.

The Mitchells nodded and each took a deep breath before going into their daughter's room. Tony decided to give them privacy and sat in the waiting room chair again. He was exhausted, and pretty soon he had drifted off to sleep.

________

_He was staring into his father's eyes. All around them were darkness. Not even a head to go with the hard eyes. They grew larger, more intense. Now there was a mouth, and now hair, pretty soon it was his entire father, standing in front of him, cold brown eyes cast on Tony's expressive green ones. His father started talking. His voice was hushed, as if people were listening somewhere. _

"_You think you can save her? Well let me tell you something, Junior, you thought you could save your mom too, didn't ya? Well in case you don't remember, you didn't. You just let her die. You could have saved her, but you didn't. And now you're trying to save this Jennifer girl."_

_He chuckled sinisterly. His father's laugh had always reminded him of a jackal. _

_But now, it wasn't his father anymore. Now he was in front of his house. Not his apartment, but his childhood home. The mansion. He was on the side of the road. Something was familiar about this scene, but it didn't hit him until he saw the familiar eighteen-wheeler truck barreling down the road. And there was his mother. Just like the first time. She was obviously drunk, and was stumbling out into the road. He tried to call out for her, but his lips were dry and nothing came out. The same feeling of helplessness washed over him. She turned around and yelled out to him, "Get away from the street, hon--" just as the truck barreled into her. She flew up onto the windshield as the truck desperately swerved to a stop. A flying side-view mirror just missed hitting Tony in the head. _

_The driver of the truck was now out and checking for a pulse in his limp mother's neck. There was blood pooling out from under her. When the driver, a typical country man in a grey t-shirt and red plaid flannel shirt, realized that Tony was on the side of the road, he rushed over to him. Tony realized at that moment that he wasn't his usual mid-thirties self. He was eight, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt with a sports car on it, rather than his usual child sailor suit that his mother had insisted he wore regularly. The truck driver picked him up and ran towards the house, shouting out for someone to call 9-1-1. Tony's nanny came out of the house, followed by his father. His nanny gasped and ran back inside to call the ambulance. Tony's father stared down at Tony with a look of hate only Tony could see. The driver put Tony down and started talking to his father. _

_When the ambulance had finally taken his mother away, proclaiming her to be dead, his father grabbed Tony by the shoulder and roughly pulled him towards the door._

"_I have to do speak with my son now. Thank you for all your help." His father said to the driver, who they had found out was named Darrel. Darrel must have noticed the look in Mr. DiNozzo's eyes, because he asked to speak with Tony for a moment. His father angrily agreed, and Darrel put a hand on Tony's shoulder and led him towards the side walk. _

"_Tony, if you ever need anything, give me a call, ok?"_

_Tony sniffled and looked down at the scar on his arm. The scar from the last time his father had gotten angry with him. Darrel put a hand under Tony's chin, causing him to look up. _

"_I'm serious, Tony. If your father is ever really mean to you, or hurts you in any way, you give me a call. Please." He handed him a small paper with his number written on it. _

_Tony nodded slightly and looked down at the scar again._

_Darrel pated him twice on the shoulder before leaving in the cab he had called, now that he couldn't drive his truck again. Tony went back to where his father was waiting and put the paper in his pocket. _

_Suddenly, it was later that night, and he was laying in his father's study. He was still eight, and he could feel an ache in his bones. Footsteps echoed in the hallway. The door suddenly burst open and his father came towards him. Tony tried to shrink back, but he was already lying in the corner. A thick glass whiskey bottle was clutched in his left hand. He let it drop with a crash. One shard of glass flew past Tony, leaving a gash on the side of his face._

_His father's voice wasn't as loud and harsh as it usually was. Now, it was low and mono-tone, as if he was simply so disappointed in Tony that he was beyond yelling. His eyes still pierced through Tony as he spoke._

"_You son of a bitch. You could have saved her. You saw her walking out there. You should have run out there and pushed her out of the way. You should have died in her place. But you were too selfish to do that. You just had to save yourself."_

_His voice was rising now. He was yelling again._

"_YOU SHOULD BE DEAD! HOW CAN YOU LIVE WITH YOURSELF? FOR GOD SAKES YOU KILLED YOUR OWN MOTHER! YOU BASTARD"_

_Tony couldn't take it anymore. He began yelling back. _

"_IT WASN'T MY FAULT! IT WASN'T MY FAULT! I WASN'T MY FAULT!!!"_

___________

"DINOZZO!"

Tony awoke with a start. He was still in the waiting room chair. By now, all the medical personnel had either gone home or moved to the emergency room area. Tony was alone, with Gibbs staring at him with more concern than he had ever seen before from the gruff ex-marine. It was at that moment that he realized he was crying. Hot tears were streaming down his face. He was still shaking from the nightmare. Before he could figure out what he was doing, he was clinging to Gibbs. He had his arms wrapped around him, and was sobbing into his shoulder.

Tony started to pull away, until he felt Gibbs' hand softly running through his hair. He stayed in that position, crying into his boss' shoulder for several minutes, before pulling away and wiping his eyes. He suddenly felt like an idiot.

"S-Sorry boss." He stammered as he rubbed his eyes. His body was still trembling slightly.

"It's ok Tony." Gibbs said. He looked like he wanted to say something else, but was unsure whether or not he should.

"What wasn't your fault?" he finally asked Tony.

Tony looked away and muttered, "Nothing boss."

"Don't give me that crap, DiNozzo. You know damn well it wasn't nothing." Gibbs growled.

"It was just a nightmare, Gibbs."

"What was it about?" he immediately countered.

"I'm not gonna be able to get out of talking about this am I?" Tony questioned.

"Nope." Gibbs answered curtly and waited for Tony's explanation.

Tony sighed and stared at his hands for several minutes more before he began.

"When I saw Jennifer's parents come in here, all worried about her, I just started thinking about my parents. And I had this dream about the day my mother died. She had gotten dru—a little bit tipsy and stumbled out into the street, right when this giant truck came by. I was standing on the side of the road when it happened. My father said that it was my fault. That I should have gone and pushed her away. And died in her place."

Tony didn't bother to tell about the beating that had taken place later that night. He didn't think he could have even if he'd wanted to.

Gibbs rubbed a hand down his face, then placed it on Tony's shoulder.

"Tony…" He tried to think of something to say. He knew there was something more to this story, but he didn't think he'd be able to get it out of Tony. No matter how hard he tried. So he simply patted his shoulder once and got up, leaving to get more coffee.

Tony wiped the remaining tears off his face and tried to forget about what an idiot he'd made of himself. Only a wimp would cry into his boss' shoulder. Tony shook his head and went out to the parking lot. He had to get back to NCIS. After all, according to Jennifer, they still had more kids to find.

**A/N: I know I'm cruel. You think Tony's finally gonna tell Gibbs, and then BAM! He doesn't. Gibbs still doesn't know how truly evil Tony's father is. But don't worry, it's coming. **

**I want to thank everyone who had reviewed my story and please do so again! I love reviews! It gives my a little bit of sunshine in this crap hole I call life! Ha ha!**

**Please let me know what you thought about the night mare, too. I wasn't sure if it was good or not. And sorry this chapter was kind of short. **

**Oh and before I forget, I want everybody to do me a favor in your reviews. I need an opinion on part of my story and didn't want to make a pole because you can't explain why you chose something:**

**Who do you think should find out about Tony's father's abusive ways first and why? And if its not Gibbs, do they tell Gibbs and why or why not?**

**Thanks so much! I'll try to update sooner if possible but I can't make any promises. Happy Easter to everyone!**

**-AgentDiNozzo13 :D**


	9. Chapter 9

Tony arrived back at NCIS just as McGee and Ziva were discussing the other possible victims. Most of them were missing children reports, several of which were similar in looks. Brown hair, brown eyes, 13-14 years of age, and owned a dog. They both stopped to look when he came in. He ignored them, expecting them to just be curious about the bags under his eyes and over-all exhausted appearance.

"Watcha doin there, Probalicious?" Tony asked in his usual goofy manor, looking over McGee's shoulder at a file.

Ziva was in front of the plasma, flipping through pictures of teenage girls who have gone missing recently.

"We may have found a few more of the victims. And…" he paused for a moment and started typing furiously at his computer.

"Careful there, wouldn't wanna break a finger." Tony teased.

Gibbs entered the bullpen at that moment. Tony tried to act as normal as possible.

"Gibbs I may have just found out where Seaman Daniels is hiding those other girls." McGee said proudly.

"Well where, McGee?" Gibbs asked, suddenly alert and interested.

"There's a shed behind his house. It appears small from the outside, but I checked with the guys who built it, and it says that Daniels specifically asked them to put in a removable floor panel that led to a small insulated room underground. Most people use them for storage, but its large enough to fit several teenage girls, and its soundproof so no one could hear them if they screamed."

Tony stared at McGee wide-eyed, with one brow wrinkled in curiosity.

"What?" McGee asked, noticing Tony's odd expression.

"It's just, I've never heard you talk for that long with out stuttering before." Tony said, continuing to look at McGee with the same expression.

McGee rolled his eyes.

"Well grab your gear!" Gibbs roared from his position next to the elevator, with Ziva already standing beside him with her badge and gun.

They both grabbed their backpacks and ran for the elevator, yelling, "Coming, Boss," at the same time.

The elevator door slid closed just as they stumbled in.

They arrived at Seaman Daniel's house in ten minutes, regardless of the normal thirty minute commute time. Tony and Gibbs rushed to the back of the house while Ziva and McGee scoped out the front of the house for any other human-stashing places.

Gibbs saw the shed immediately, and ran toward it with his gun drawn. Just in case.

Tony busted the door down with one kick and they both rushed into the small shed. Gibbs moved away a small pile of straw on the ground to reveal a square cutout on the ground with a black metal handle attached. Tony bent down and lifted the door open, having to pull heard on account of the underside being made of metal. He swung his legs down into the narrow tunnel and dropped to the ground, noticing a very short tunnel ahead of him. It was tall enough for him to stand up in, and he slowly made his way down the passage. At the end he turned right, where there was a door .He hit the knob, and it went down freely, concluding that it wasn't locked from the outside. The inside, however, was probably locked tight. Keeping anyone who was inside, inside.

Gibbs came up behind Tony just as he swung open the door. The door had opened to reveal a dimly lit room, with several shadowed figures crouched in a semi-circle on the ground. Gibbs took his flashlight off of his belt and clicked it on, casting a line of light to illuminate the faces. Most of them were similar to Jennifer's description. Brown hair, brown eyes, same age. They all looked up and squinted towards the light.

"We're NCIS. You're all safe now." Tony said to the girls.

Several of them looked like they were about to cry, but at the same time they didn't seem to have enough energy left in them to shed a single tear. One of the girls had her eyes closed, and was whispering, "Thank you, God. Thank you, God. Thank you, God."

Tony ran past Gibbs and back up into the shed. He continued running until he was in the front yard, where the EMT's were waiting. They all saw him, and immediately started rushing back towards the shed. Tony stood where he was, breathing a sigh of relief. Ziva and McGee cam toward to him. They all seemed to be thinking the same thing.

_Finally. They are all safe._

Tony suddenly felt tired. Very tired. He thought back and realized that other than that time in the hospital earlier, he hasn't had a good nights sleep in about thirteen days. Well technically, he has never really had a good nights sleep. But he was being hypothetical.

His phone started ringing just then, so he took it out of his pocket and walked several paces away, out of earshot of his fellow agents. He flipped his phone open and put it to his ear. It was a familiar voice on the other end.

"Tony. How pleasant to hear _your_ voice again." The voice said.

"I was about to say the same thing." Tony replied, suddenly extremely irritated.

The other man chuckled slightly before continuing.

"Always did have that damned sense of humor, Tony."

"What do you want, Joseph?" Tony asked into the phone, growing impatient. Joseph was one of his cousins. One of the ones on his father's side.

"Calm down, Tony. Can't a guy call his favorite cousin to chat?" he asked sarcastically.

"Cut to the point before I go over there and cut off your--"

"Alright, alright." Joseph said. "I visited your father in prison yesterday and have received a request from him. He wants me to inform you that he will be having a private hearing in the judge's chambers next week. They have agreed to release him with minimal charges."

"_What? Why?_" Tony asked furiously.

"That is between your father and the judge, Tony. I'm afraid I have to go. See you later. Good luck." Joseph laughed once more before hanging up. Tony snapped his phone shut and walked very slowly back to Ziva and McGee.

"Who was that?"

He looked up from the spot on the ground he had been fixating on and tried to focus on Ziva. But he couldn't. His vision was blurring. Suddenly there were two McGee's, then three Ziva's, then… Gibbs?" But that wasn't a figment of his delusional mind. Gibbs really was standing there. Staring at Tony, his face looking confused and concerned.

"Tony? You alright?" Gibbs asked.

But to Tony it all looked fuzzy and he barely heard Gibbs.

"I'm fine boss…" Tony mumbled as he collapsed onto the grass.

**A/N: BUM BUM BUMMM!!! I'm SO SO SO SO SO SO SO SORRY I haven't updated in forever! I had a trip and a bunch of other stuff and just haven't gotten around to it! And for those of you who read Broken Promises, don't worry, the new chapter is almost complete. I haven't updated that one in a while either. Sorry! :)**

**Please leave reviews! I have narrowed it down to four possible outcomes:**

**Abby finds out by digging into Tony's past and tells Gibbs.**

**Tony tells Ducky about it, and Ducky tells Gibbs.**

**Tony tells Gibbs about it. (If you choose this one, you can give me ideas on when and where, because I'm not totally sure yet.)**

**Something really dramatic happens, like they find him knocked out in his apartment from his father finding him or something like that. (I'd need suggestions on this one, too.)**

**Please let me know which one is liked the most! Thanks!**

**Please review! :) **

**-AgentDiNozzo13**


	10. Chapter 10

When Tony awoke, he was lying in a hospital bed. He could heard a faint beeping in the background, most likely coming from a heart monitor. He glanced down at his arm, which was hooked up to multiple tubes and needles. He felt like one of those elderly hundred-year-old men who lay on their death beds on life support. It wasn't until that moment that he noticed the other presence in the room. Over in the corner was McGee, sleeping in a plastic chair. His head was tilted back, and a small line of drool was threatening to fall down his chin. Tony didn't want to wake him, but when he tried shifting positions he let out a small groan, causing McGee to jolt out of his light slumber. Noticing that Tony was awake, he whipped out his cell phone and called Gibbs, alerting him of Tony's newly-conscious state.

"W-What happened?" Tony asked, still half-asleep.

"Well uh… you collapsed at the scene after receiving a phone call." McGee stammered, surprised to hear Tony's voice for the first time in the past six days. That was probably the longest Tony has ever gone with out talking in his life.

"Oh… right." Tony said, looking down at the edge of the sheet that he was intertwining in his fingers. The phone call was coming right back to him. The chilling words of his cousin. His father was being let out. Minimal charges. Next week. He paused for a moment, then asked, "McGee, how many days have I been out?"

"Uh, about six days Tony. Seven in a few hours."

Tony froze in fear. It _was_ next week. His father could be out of prison right now for all he knew.

Several minutes of silence followed, neither agent knowing what to say. When Gibbs walked in after a few more minutes, McGee stood and said goodbye to Tony, then left the hospital room. After several _more _minutes of silence, Gibbs said, "You're free to go home today. You're coming back to my place."

"But Gibbs--" Tony began to protest.

"No buts. Stop by your place first and grab clothes, and be at my place by 1100."

"Ok, boss." Tony said as Gibbs walked out. He surveyed the room, finding what he was looking for on another plastic visitors chair similar to the one McGee had fallen asleep on. Clothes. It was a pair of jeans, a blue collared shirt, boxers, socks, and his weekend-sneakers placed on top.

After getting dressed, he grabbed his keys and wallet off of the counter by the bed and signed out, heading for the hospital parking lot. He felt some what tired, but ignored it and got into his car, heading back to his apartment to get clothes.

When he pulled up in front of his apartment complex, his heart rate sped up. If his father was out already, where would he be? Would he be waiting in his apartment? Or maybe even at Gibbs' house? He shook off these thoughts and entered the building, taking caution to look over his shoulder.

The walk up to his apartment level was uneventful, but he still wasn't letting his guard down. He tried to make as little noise as possible when digging through his pocket for his keys, and the process of unlocking the door was endless. However, when he opened the door with a creak, his apartment looked empty and untouched. Not one thing was out of place. He breathed a sigh of relief and walked over to his couch, dropping his cell phone, keys, and wallet down onto the coffee table. The couch felt soft and inviting on his soar body, but he knew he had to be at Gibbs' house in less than a half hour, so he began to ease himself back up. That is, until he felt a strong hand clamp down on his shoulder. It squeezed tight. Tony could almost feel his collar bone crack at the pressure of the crushing hand. It didn't take a wild guess to know whose hand it was.

"Hello, Junior." A voice came from behind him, the cold hardness matching the feeling of the hand on his shoulder.

Tony felt the room drop three degrees. (Most likely the temperature from his father's heart radiating through the room.)

"Hi… dad…" Tony answered in a small voice, trying his best to mask any fear.

Mr. DiNozzo's Italian accent was so strong it nearly made his voice illegible, but Tony had grown used to it and could mainly understand what his father was saying. It didn't matter anyway, however, because his father didn't say another word. He simply gripped harder on his shoulder and pulled him over the back of the couch, making Tony slam against the hard wood floor in front of his father's feet. His breathing immediately grew ragged; on account of his scarred lungs from his pneumonic plague battle. His father obviously didn't care, because he drew back his Italian-leather-shoe encased foot and brought it down in between Tony's ribs. Tony groaned and clutched at his ribcage, feeling the broken bone grounded against itself. Mr. DiNozzo only laughed maniacally and grabbed Tony with both hands by the collar of his shirt, hoisting him up to a standing position. Tony tried to take a swing at his father, but due to his dizzy and aching state he was easily over taken by the strong Italian man and thrown across the room into the wall.

The next fifteen minutes was an on slot of punches, kicks, and being flung to various parts of the room. His father surprised him when he pulled out a switch knife and flicked it open, wagging it dangerously in front of him. Tony tried his hardest to push himself up and back into a corner, trying to stay away from the gleaming weapon in his father's hand. DiNozzo Senior came forward, holding the knife forward in warning. Tony stopped moving and clumped against the wall, panting heavily. He closed his eyes right before he felt the sharp blade make contact with his left shoulder, causing him to clench his teeth and let out a struggled hiss of pain. He tried to open his eyes, but when he heard his father running out of the apartment and slamming the door, he decided it wasn't worth it and allowed the beckoning darkness to consume him. Pretty soon he was unconscious in the corner of his apartment, unaware of anything other than the shooting pain and struggle to breathe.

Gibbs was in his basement, keeping close eye on the clock. It was already 1130 and Tony hadn't shown up yet. There was a decent sized chance that he was simply running late or fell asleep on his couch, but Gibbs couldn't ignore the feeling in his gut that something wasn't right. Tony followed all of his orders to the T, always trying to impress him. He looked from the clock to the door at the top of the stairs, then back at the clock again. 1134. He grabbed his cell phone off of the work bench and flipped it open, dialing Tony's number.

Tony heard his phone ringing somewhere in the distance. He tried to pull himself out of unconsciousness long enough to reach for his phone, but failed soon after and slipped back into the dark.

Gibbs flipped his cell phone shut after hearing the first word of Tony's voicemail. He grabbed his car keys and ran up the stairs, heading to his car. After speeding to Tony's apartment, he ran past the front desk, ignoring the managers offer of assistance. He knew Tony's apartment floor and number by heart, and took the stairs to get there.

The door was locked, but he had a key that Tony had given him years ago. After he unlocked the door, he pushed it open slowly. The apartment was dark. He flicked on the light switch, only to reveal his worst fear. Tony was slumped in the corner of the living room, battered and bloody. His eyes were closed, and his arm was extended as if he had tried to reach for something. Probably his phone, since it was lying on the ground inches in front of his hand. On the screen it said "One Missed Call: Gibbs". Gibbs knelt down next to Tony, shaking his shoulder gently.

"Tony, come one Tony, wake up." Gibbs whispered to his agent.

Tony stirred and opened his eyes slightly.

"Gibbs…" he said before allowing his head to flop back down and his eyes to shut.

"Tony, are you hurt badly? Do you need to go to the hospital?" Gibbs asked, knowing full-well that Tony would refuse hospital care.

"No… boss… I'm fine…" he said and started pushing himself up. Gibbs put his arm around Tony's waist and placed Tony's arm over his own shoulders. In that stance, he helped Tony limp over to the door and into the elevator.

"Tony, you need to go to the hospital." Gibbs said to Tony.

As bad as Tony felt, he knew that he didn't need the hospital.

"No, Gibbs. I'll be fine…" Tony said in a weak voice as the elevator doors opened.

Gibbs really wanted to get Tony medical care, but he needed a story first. So he reluctantly agreed to take him back to his house.

The car ride to Gibbs' house was silent, mostly because Tony had fallen asleep the second Gibbs put him in the front seat. When they were there, he got out and circled to Tony's door, helping him out and into the house. Once Tony was seated on Gibbs' couch, Gibbs sat across from him in an arm chair and waited to see if Tony would explain.

When it was clear that Tony wasn't going to talk, Gibbs asked, "Who?"

Tony looked at his bruised hands and stayed silent. This was something from his past that he hadn't wanted exposed. Not now, not ever. The knife cut on his arm was beginning to sting as if rubbed against his shirt.

Gibbs seamed to notice Tony's discomfort and said, "Deep six the shirt Tony. It'll make it feel batter."

Tony did as he was told and unbuttoned his shirt, pulling it off slowly to avoid any painful contact between it and his injuries.

Gibbs tried to suppress the gasp that built up in his throat when Tony took off his shirt. He was a well-sculpted young man, but his chest was marred with raising bruises and red patches of dried blood. His shoulder was the worst. It had a long gash running from his collar bone to his upper bicep muscle, likely made from a knife.

Tony kept his eyes cast down, rather than at Gibbs' face. He knew he wanted an explanation, but he still didn't want to talk about it. DiNozzo's don't like to air out their dirty laundry.

"Tony, you're gonna' have to talk to me sometime so I suggest you do it now." Gibbs growled, trying his best to sound kind. But it was difficult, considering the anger he felt towards whoever it was who did this to his senior field agent.

_His son._

He knew it was true, but ever since Shannon and Kelly died he had trouble becoming attached to anyone. That would explain the three ex-wives. Deep down, he loved Tony like a son. And he knew it, he just had trouble expressing it.

"I know." Tony answered quietly, breaking Gibbs from his thoughts.

Gibbs gave him a look telling him to elaborate. When he didn't, he probed, "_Who did this_, Tony?"

"My—" Tony began.

Gibbs titled his head forward, signaling to Tony that it was alright to continue.

Tony took a deep breath and said, "My father. He did it. My cousin Joseph called the other day at the crime scene. He said my father was being let off early with minimal charges. Wouldn't explain why. When I came home today, there he was."

Gibbs' mouth was open, unable to comprehend what his agent was telling him. He knew Tony's father was a bastard. He had found that out months ago when he had first encountered Mr. DiNozzo. And the emails. The horrible emails to Mr. Langston. But this was ten times worse, because this wasn't just having some one else beat your kid. This was his own father, harming him intentionally. For no reason. This couldn't have been the first time either. Things like these weren't just spur of the moment. They had a pattern.

"Tony, did your father hurt you when you were a kid, too?" Gibbs asked, already knowing the answer.

Tony put his head in his hands for a moment, then looked up at Gibbs and said, "Yeah."

Gibbs was about to say something else when Tony lost it. All of his pent-up anger was finally released, causing Tony to go completely off-the-wall.

"He always has! He told me I was worthless! That I'd end up in the gutter! All my friends, they always were talking about how their parents would take them to movies and out for ice cream and all that other parental crap. My dad didn't give a damn about me!" He was screaming now. "ALL HE EVER CARED ABOUT WAS HIS MONEY AND HIS CURRENT WIFE! I TRIED TELLING SOMEONE ONCE, TOO! BUT DID THEY CARE? NO! THEY THOUGHT I WAS LYING! AFTER ALL, THE SON OF WORLD-FAMOUS ANTHONY DINOZZO SENIOR WOULD NEVER BE ABUSED! IT DIDN'T WORK LIKE THAT!"

Tony stood from his position on the couch, ignoring the screaming pain in his entire body. He was furious now. Pain didn't matter anymore.

"WHAT DID I EVER DO TO HIM? THAT'S WHAT I WANT TO KNOW! WHY DIDN'T I DESERVE HIS LOVE, YOU MAY ASK? BECAUSE HE DIDN'T HAVE ANY LOVE TO GIVE! THE FEELING OF LOVE WAS SUCKED OUT OF HIS PATHETIC BODY AT A YOUNG AGE! YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT HE DID TO ME!" Tony screams ended then, and he dropped back down onto the couch, burying his face in his hands. He wouldn't cry again, he had already done that in front of Gibbs. He wouldn't do it again.

"What _did_ he do to you, Tony?" Gibbs asked in a soft voice.

Tony took a deep breath and prepared himself to dive into the dark universe of his past.

"It's been going on since I was about… three… I think…"

**A/N: I was going to have the whole big heart warming conversation in this chapter, but I decided to be evil and make you wait. :) **

**Thank you all for your amazing reviews and I hope you review this chapter as well! And please check out my newest story, Boys Are Concrete Angels Too, based on the song Concrete Angel by Martina McBride. I have already had several reviews and PM's telling me that the story made them cry. Its about Tony abuse, of course. **

**Thanks again for reading and please review!**

**-AgentDiNozzo13**


	11. Chapter 11

**Warning: This chapter contains some-what graphic details of child abuse. Don't like, don't read.**

"It's been going on since I was about… three… I think…"

Gibbs kept his face emotionless, waiting for Tony to finish. But _three_. He had pictures of Kelly at age three running through his head now. Her sweet, innocent face.

"My… My father was always trying to raise me to be more of a… a showpiece, I guess. I had to stand up straight, look presentable, and not speak unless spoken to. My mom, she would dress me up in these little… sailor suits. And I would follow her around as she flaunted me to her high-society friends. But one night, we were at a dinner party. My mother had gone off with a few friends and I couldn't find her. I was wandering around in the crowds of people for hours, not knowing where I was going or whether or not my parents had left without me. When I finally thought I spotted my dad,"

He paused for a minute, internally scolding himself for saying 'dad'. He had never been aloud to call him that. It was father or sir.

"I was so happy that I wasn't forgotten. So happy that I ran over to him. But my shiny new sailor shoes were slippery on the floor… and I crashed into his legs, making him spill his drink. None of it got on his shoes, but the drink was all over the floor. He looked at me with such… such disappointment. I turned and ran. Later that night, he brought me to my room. Made me lay on my back with my shirt off. Then he took off his belt…"

Tony sniffled once, biting his lip to hold in the tears.

_Flashback:_

_Tony was laying on the floor, feeling the soft carpet fibers brushing against his face each time he took a breath. It was winter, so being shirtless in a room with opened windows was chilling him to the bone. His father was pacing back and forth, his belt folded into thirds in his right hand, the buckle end tapping his left palm over and over. He saw his father walk over to the windows, shutting each one slowly and softly, as not to raise suspicion with the neighbors._

_Tony didn't know what was going on. His father had never done anything like this before. He was about to ask what was going on, when he felt something slash against his back. He uttered a loud cry, which earned him only another whip from the thick leather belt. _

"_Shut up you little brat! Do you want some one to hear you?"_

_Tony kept his eyes and mouth tight, to keep from making more noise. After several more excruciating whips from the belt, he heard his father breathing heavier. The whip wasn't enough anymore. He could hear him grabbing something else. There was a loud sound like splitting wood. At first, he didn't know what it was. But as soon as it made contact with his back he was positive it was a wooden rung from his desk chair. Tony's fragile body was screaming in pain, but he stayed quiet. Soon after, his father gave up and left, leaving Tony sprawled on the floor in so much pain he couldn't stand up. He slept on the floor that night. _

_From that night on, his father always took his anger out in similar ways to that. He would change things up by making up new ways of pain, but it was all basically the same. He would hurt him. Bad._

_End Flashback_

Tony was staring down at his thumbs, which were twiddling with each other in his lap. He wasn't sure how much of that he had said out loud, but obviously a decent amount considering the look on Gibbs' face.

"Sorry, boss." Tony said automatically. He wasn't sure why, but it was just the kind of thing he would usually say at awkward times like these. He even knew Gibbs' response before he said it.

"Don't apologize, DiNozzo."

Tony stayed silent, staring at his intermingling thumbs. There were plenty more stories, but they were hidden deep down somewhere in his past. A place he didn't like to go. Every time he went there it brought him pain and a trip to Gibbs' basement for bourbon, silence, and sleeping on Gibbs' couch. Unannounced. Uninvited. Unexplained.

"Tony… Did your father ever hurt you in any worse way than that?" Gibbs asked. He hated asking that, but he needed full details about what happened. Not to convict his father, since he was now protected by a statue of limitations, but for his own personal recollection. And so that Tony could lift a weight off his shoulders by finally sharing his dark past.

Tony sniffled again, then nodded. A very faint, almost un-noticeable movement of the head. But still there. Gibbs waited for him to explain. At first he didn't, but after zoning out in what seemed to be some sort of flashback, he started mumbling about a memory. Just like he had before.

_Flashback:_

_Tony was walking up the long drive way towards the mansion doors. He liked this part of the day, because he knew his father wouldn't be home for another few hours. After being let in by one of the many butlers, he went outside to lay in the grass that covered the back yard. He would some times lay there for hours, just watching the clouds floating by. Some times he'd even try to guess what shapes they looked like, and then make a story about it. Today, however, the clouds were light and wispy, so they resembled nothing other than plumes of smoke or frost. _

_He decided to lay under his favorite tree. It was three times higher than any rock climbing wall and was covered in the perfect footholds needed to climb all the way to the top. _

_After several hours, Tony had unknowingly drifted to off to sleep. When he awoke, he was staring into the eyes of none other than Anthony DiNozzo Senior. He looked angry, and reached his strong arms out to Tony, inches away from his arms. _

_Tony jumped up with a sudden burst of energy that most people didn't have right after sleeping, and ran backwards a few paces to the trunk of the tree. The door to the mansion was to far away, so he knew his best bet would be to take refuge in the big tree. He knew each foot and hand-hold by heart but ignored them, choosing instead to shimmy up the tree as fast as possible, ignoring the branches and twigs that left scratches on his legs, arms, and face. It only took him several minutes to reach the top, and he knew his father wouldn't climb up after him. _

_He was perched on a high branch that over-looked the back yard, and saw his father running inside the house. After a minute passed he came back out, his mother following close behind. He could see her looking around at eye-level, but when his father pointed up, she looked to see Tony peering down back at her from the highest branch of a tree taller than the mansion itself. She screamed, and ran back inside._

_Tony waited there for about five more minutes, before he heard the sirens. He looked down and saw a bright red fire truck pulling into the backyard through the wide fence-gate on the side. Tony leaned back up and stared straight ahead, wondering if it was his father or mother who called the fire department. Probably his mother. She was paranoid like that sometimes. _

_He heard a noise to the right, and saw a man dressed in a yellow firemen's outfit on a cherry-picker next to him. _

"_Tony?" the man said with a good-natured smile._

"_Yeah?" he answered quietly, knowing they were going to take him back down there. Back to where he wasn't wanted, and would surely receive a severe beating later for pulling a stunt like this._

"_Can you come back down with me, please? You're mommy and daddy are very worried about you." He said, reaching a hand out to Tony._

_Tony's eyes widened, his young mind not comprehending that just because the fireman said it, doesn't mean his parents said I toot. But even with this momentary thought, he shook his head no._

"_Why not?" the fireman asked, still keeping that smile plastered on his face._

"_Cuz." Tony said, trying to think of an excuse. _

_The fireman looked alerted when he noticed a large bruise on Tony's knee, just peeking out of the bottom of his play-clothes shorts. _

"_Tony, are you okay?" he said in a hushed tone, leaning in slightly._

"_Yeah. It's pretty up here." He lied, giving his best innocent-little-kid smile._

_The fireman suddenly seemed relieved and reached over to Tony, scooping him up under the arms. Tony didn't struggle, even though he knew he didn't want to get down. _

_The fireman held him in his arms as the cherry picker was lowered to the ground, and set him down when they were safely on the grass._

_Tony's father and mother welcomed him with open arms, his father making up some forced thank-you to the fire department. _

_Once they left, Tony was taken into his father's study. That night he slept in an unconscious heap on the study's floor. He didn't go to school again for two weeks, and claimed it was because he had pneumonia. _

_End Flashback_

_Flashback:_

_Tony was four. Four and a half, to be exact. His hair was just beginning to turn a darker brown, rather than his natural sandy hair color. His eyes were taking on a brilliant shade of green, with a sadness in them that reminded you of the sad puppies on the ASPCA commercials._

_Currently, he was in the kitchen, watching the cooks prepare food for his father's big business dinner that night. He had to stand on tip-toes just to see the bottom rim of the large simmering pot. The cooks usually didn't mind. Some even enjoyed lifting Tony up so he could help stir something or watch as they chopped carrots. Tony enjoyed it too, because he knew his father would never set foot in the kitchen._

_But today, not even the kitchen was a safe-haven for Tony. He was watching the head chef prepare a large pot of pesto sauce. It amazed him that there was such thing as green sauce. He had seen red sauce plenty of times, but green was something new and exciting. However, just as he was about to take the spoon and help stir, his father busted into the room. _

"_Is that meal ready yet Chef? They are arriving at--"_

_He stopped when he saw Tony leaning over the pot of sauce. His eyes narrowed, trying to comprehend why his son was touching the food. _

_Tony was frozen in his spot, contemplating whether to run or cower. They both sounded very tempting. When his father began advancing on him, he made the decision to cower. His father came over to him and hoisted him up by the under arms. He didn't bother to struggle or kick free. He simply hung in his arms like a limp noodle. _

_After being carried at arms length in this same manor through the halls of the mansion, his father dropped him at the doorway of his study. Tony took that opportunity to stand up on his own two feet and run into the study, taking refuge behind a large leather chair. He heard the door being slammed shut, and waited in fear behind the chair. _

_The thick stench of Italian cologne filled his small nostrils as he was dragged out of his hiding place. His father was glancing between him and the fire place, then back to him. Tony was fighting back tears, knowing that the more he cried the worse it hurt. _

_After seeming to make up his mind, Mr. DiNozzo stalked over to Tony and grabbed his wrist, pulling him towards the fire. Tony's eyes grew wide with fear and he began to struggle away from his father's grasp. The strong hand only tightened, and the other grabbed hold of a metal pole next to the fire place. Tony wasn't sure what it was used for, but one end had a metal loop and the other had an end shaped like the DiNozzo family crest made out of metal. He saw his father stick the emblem-end into the fire and wait as it turned a scorching red color. Once it seemed hot enough for DiNozzo Senior's liking, he pulled it out and watched as a few tiny embers fell onto the ground. Tony wrenched and pulled harder against his father's grip, trying in desperation to get away. His father's grip was getting sweatier and looser, and Tony thought he would be able to bolt, but suddenly he felt a searing, burning pain on his lower abdomen. _

_In his struggle, he realized that his shirt had been pulled half way up, revealing his lower body. His father had taken advantage of it and pressed the metal pole onto Tony, leaving a burning imprint of the DiNozzo family crest that was now eating away at his soft flesh. _

_Tony howled in pain when the hot metal came in contact with his skin, but couldn't do anything to stop the hurt. If he touched it, it would only get worse. His father was glaring at him again, as if disgusted at the weakness of his only son. Tony was trembling, and had ripped his shirt off to keep it from touching the burned spot on his stomach. _

_Tony wasn't sure whether he was allowed to leave yet, so he stayed where he was. After long minutes of silence, his father walked over to him and slapped him across the face. It made a loud smack, and Tony's eyes grew hot with tears. He could feel a red mark appearing on the stinging portion of his cheek. _

"_Vigliacco." his father spat. _**(Translation: Coward)**

_Tony made a quick decision and ran for the door, nearly tripping over several over-turned chairs and books that were strewn across the floor. His father was right behind him, scooping him up before he could even reach the door handle. _

"_You think you can run away? Coward. Be a man, Anthony." His father grumbled as he carried Tony in a fireman's carry back to the far-side of the study. _

_Tony was dropped to the ground in front of the large oak desk that his father always used as a whipping table. But it wasn't going to be used for whipping tonight. His father grabbed a fistful of Tony's soft hair and used it as a make-shift lever, pulling Tony's head backwards, then bringing it forward again to hear a loud crack as bone connected with wood. Tony suddenly felt extremely dizzy, his forehead throbbing. There was a warm trickle of blood running down his face, but he didn't even bother to wipe it away. _

_After finally escaping from his father's study, Tony took refuge in his closet, clutching to a ratty stuffed teddy bear. The only security he had. _

_End Flashback_

Gibbs was stunned speechless. There was one question that had been floating around in the back of his mind through these stories.

"Didn't you're mother ever do anything?" he asked Tony.

Tony looked up with a sudden look of sadness twisted with something Gibbs couldn't make out. Fear? Regret? Guilt?

Tony was trembling slightly, but warped instantly back into the dreamy state and started rambling out the story of yet another memory. Gibbs wanted nothing more than to stop him, but he knew Tony needed to get these things out. Before it killed him.

_Flashback_

_Tony was eight, now. He still had the white line of a scar resembling the DiNozzo family crest imprinted on his skin, but it no longer hurt when taking hot showers. It wasn't very intricate, just a capital cursive D with a circle around it. But he hated to look at it. He didn't think his mother even knew it was there. She probably didn't even know what his father did to him. _

_His mother had always been somewhat dependant on alcohol. Mint julep, to be exact. He didn't mind much, since the rare occasions when she was sober ended in her chasing Tony around the house in her underwear and launderette yelling, "Come back here, Tony. Your father isn't pleasing me… I need a real man…"_

_Tony hated when she did that. Sometimes she actually caught him. When she did, well, he saw things that no son should ever have to see on their mother. _

_Today, however, she was sober and happy. She wasn't trying to harm Tony, and she wasn't huddled in the corner sucking down her Mind Julep… or his sea monkeys, as it one time happened. She was practically flitting around the house, taking notice of each and every beautiful thing she saw. Tony was enjoying it. He was following her around, trying to keep up with how many things she would point out. A small glass cat, a hand-blown vase, a gold-encrusted mirror, and the many other things in their house that caught her eye. _

_Tony eventually gave up, his eight-year old attention span not allowing him to continue enjoying pointing out knick-knacks, and went up to his room. He was playing with one of his model cars when his mother came through the door. She was wearing the smile of a Goddess, and her bright blue eyes were sparkling with pure joy. _

"_Tony, I have the most wonderful news!" she said, her smile only growing wider._

_Tony was taken aback by being called 'Tony' by his mother, rather than 'Anthony'. He liked it._

"_What is it, mother?" he asked, curious about what was making his mother act this way._

"_Oh, Tony, my sweet baby boy…" his mother said, looking at him with the gaze that he only saw his friend's moms' give to them. _

_Tony felt his lips quark into a smile. His mother's happiness was infectious. She stepped forward, as if to hug him._

"_Tony, I'm preg--"_

_Suddenly his mother fell down in a heap, blood pouring down the back of her head. Tony jumped back, looking for a reason why his mother just collapsed in a bloody heap. On the ground under his mom's foot was his model car. A green 1966 Ford Mustang. She had tripped on it and caught the side of her head on his wooden dresser. _

_What he didn't know, was that she hadn't really tripped. His father was standing out in the hall. He had pushed her. He didn't need another child. One son was torture enough, so he had pushed his wife down towards the corner of a wooden dresser. It had been a quick decision, with little thinking involved. But he knew exactly how to cover it up. He came flying around the corner into his son's room and stopped in front of his wife's body. _

"_Anthony!" he screamed. "Your damned cars! You killed your mother! You killed her with your stupid American toys!" he shouted._

_Tony felt tears of sadness and frustration streaming down his face. He looked down at his mother's face. Suddenly, it turned toward him. On of her eyes rolled back, revealing only the white, and she smiled a ghostly smile of defeat that would haunt him for years to come. _

_End Flashback_

When Tony looked up, Gibbs was turned around, emptying the contents of his stomach into a small plastic trash can. Tony waited for him to finish, ignoring the tremors wracking his body and the obvious signs of weakness he was protruding to his boss.

Gibbs looked back up from the trash can, which was now filled with his own bile, and looked at his senior field agent. He seemed to be curling around himself, wrapping his arms protectively around his stomach. One hand was in front of his mouth. He wasn't biting his nails, but he seemed to be biting lightly on his knuckles. He was shaking, he had been for the past hour or so, but he wasn't crying. His eyes were dry. It seemed almost as if he was smiling… no wait… he _was_ smiling. Did he think this was _normal_?

"Man, my life is screwed." Tony said, laughing almost silently. But it wasn't a happy laugh. It was a laugh filled with the defeat and sorrow of a man who had seen far worse than any man should. Any _child _should.

Gibbs looked up at Tony and said, "Please tell me you're lying."

Tony gave him his best defeated smile and lifted up the right side of his shirt in his fist slightly, revealing the white-lined scar of the DiNozzo family crest.

**A/N: So there was one of the chapters you've all been waiting for. Another one is coming, though. The big Gibbs-helps-Tony chapter(s). Let me know of any ideas you have, because I sure would love to know. Especially about how Gibbs helps Tony. I don't know whether you guys want it big and heart felt or more like the show where they still aren't too emotional. And I really need your opinions about this (I'm taking a vote instead of making a poll):**

**For the next chapter, do you want:**

**All comforting**

**All more memories, then a comfort chapter after that **

**More memories **_**and**_** comfort, building up to a **_**big**_** comfort chapter**

**Thanks for all your reviews and please review this chapter!**

**-AgentDiNozzo13**


	12. Chapter 12

_It was Halloween. A day of paradise for most children. Doing ghostly crafts in school, dressing up as your favorite animal or TV character, and candy. Bag-loads of candy. But as previously mentioned, it is only so with most kids. For kids like Tony DiNozzo Jr, Halloween was just another day of Hell on Earth. _

_He did enjoy the dress-up, though. This year he was an astronaut. A space-man. The coolest kind of job you could have (to Tony) was to be an astronaut and fly into space on one of the big, white shuttles. _

_His costume was perfect. A helmet, big white boots, an alien-shaped candy bag, and the suit was constructed from one of his dad's many ski-suits. It was powder-white, and came with matching white gloves. It looked just like a space-man's outfit when combined with the helmet and boots. _

_While he walked down the sidewalk of his estate, clad in the thick white suit, he was unaware of his friend Marcus creeping up behind him. It wasn't until Tony let out a blood-curdling scream that Marcus realized that he had made a grave error in judgment. Before he could even finishing the word "boo", Tony was flinching away from Marcus' hand on his shoulder. Marcus was Tony's best friend, and the only one who knew why Tony was always covered in bruises and cuts. He still didn't know the worst of it, but he knew enough to realize his mistake._

"_Sorry, Tony. I kinda… forgot." Marcus mumbled, feeling awful for scaring his friend like that._

_Tony breathed heavily for a few moments until his complexion returned to a light shade of tan again and muttered, "Its ok."_

_They continued down the driveway as if it never happened, and went to the first house. _

_Each of the houses in Tony and Marcus' neighborhood were mansions, or at least mansion-sized, and had long sloping driveways that took several minutes to walk up. It was worth it when they got there, though, because rich people gave away the best candy. The first house already practically filled Tony's bag halfway. Tony gave the house-occupants a cheeky smile and ran down the driveway with Marcus at his heels. _

_After clearing the entire block of estates, Tony and Marcus both had their arms full of candy that was overflowing from their bags. Tony was sweating bullets, considering he was in a full ski-suit in the middle of autumn. He could feel his arms aching, but knew it was worth it every time he looked down at the overload of candy (with the occasional apple). _

_He and Marcus parted when they went by his house. Tony went up his driveway and Marcus continued down the street to his house. When Tony reached the top of the driveway, he gulped when he saw his father's car through one of the garage windows. It hadn't been there earlier. _

_The porch light was switched off, avoiding the attention of trick-or-treaters. Tony opened the heavy front door and slipped in, hoping to get to his room without attracting attention to himself. As he rounded the corner right before the stair case, he ran directly into his father. After one look at his son, DiNozzo Senior burst out in a fit of yelling and hoisted Tony off the ground by the shirt collar. _

"_You used one of my __**$30,000 **__designer ski suits to make your pathetic little costume?" _

_He said the word 'costume' in a way that made it seem like he was disgusted at the very thought of it. _

"_Ummm… yes… sorry sir…" Tony mumbled through the helmet. _

_His father scowled and ripped the helmet off of Tony's head, causing his sweaty hair to fly back away from his face. It practically gave him whip-lash. Tony saw his father's eyes settle on the bag of candy spilling on the ground under him. He was placed back onto the ground, and watched as his father shoved every piece of candy into the small alien bag. After it was overflowing, he grabbed Tony's arm and dragged him into his study._

_The fire was blazing with orange embers. It cackled every so often, causing Tony to jump, remembering the scar on his abdomen. He watched silently as his father walked over to the fire place and dropped handful after handful of candy into the fire. The wrapper would be eaten away, and then the chocolate or candy would slowly melt into the pile of ash. When the wrapper was made of foil, the fire would flare out several feet in front of the fire place. Tony's father stood to the side to avoid this. He even threw the apples into the flames. They took longer to burn, first singing the skin and then roasting the soft apple to the core. _

_Tony just kept watching every piece of his heard-earned reward tumbling down into the fire. It cackled more and more with every newly-offered treat, causing Tony to jump every time. After the last piece of candy was gone, his father dropped the alien bag into the fire as well. The bright green cloth blackened instantly and spread over the whole bag, erasing the big ovular eyes and small mouth of the alien. Tony was then forcibly stripped of the ski suit, which was also burned, being deemed unusable. _

_By the time his father was through, he was almost stark-naked. He had been stripped of every aspect of his costume. All that was left to hide his shame was a pair of blue boxer-shorts and socks. His father took off his belt and told him to lean over his desk. Tony did as he was told, and soon felt the sharp pain. It wasn't on his bottom, though. He had never been spanked before and probably never would. His father thought of spanking as a pathetic punishment. Instead, he whipped Tony on the backs of his upper-thighs. It stung like Hell, and Tony clenched his teeth to keep the screams away. _

_Later that night, Tony slept on his stomach. If he even shifted the wrong way and a blanket touched his thigh, he would yelp in pain. It was weeks before he could even think about sitting. Or bending over, for that matter. For this time he stayed out of school, in fear the teachers would notice the obvious pain when he sat as his desk. It wasn't until Christmas, in fact, that he was able to sit in a chair for more than several minutes. On that note, Thanksgiving had been torturous. _

Gibbs sat back and let the last story digest. He remembered McGee mentioning Tony telling him about being an astronaut during a case several years ago, but when he said he didn't sit until Christmas McGee thought he had been kidding. Especially since he ended it with a sarcastic, "Good times, Probie."

Tony, on the other hand, was thinking about Marcus. Marcus was the best friend he'd ever had, and the only one he could confide to about his father's actions. Not the really bad details, but enough so that he didn't have too big of a burden on his shoulders. Marcus had died several months after that Halloween in a freak-accident. Tony could still remember that day. Suddenly he was thrown back into another vivid memory. Not about his father, but about the day Marcus died.

_The sky was bright, the sun casting a golden light on Tony and his friends' faces as they walked down the street. Tony was carrying a football, and occasionally would give a shout of 'Go long' and send it spiraling through the air for another boy to chase after and catch. This was how he liked spending his time. When they walked by the empty lot next to Donatello's Mini-Mart, his friend Jason headed in, motioning for the guys to follow. They were all curious as to what he wanted, and formed an observatory circle around Jason. Tony was one of the youngest and shortest, but never had to look over anyone's shoulder because everyone treated him like a kid brother. They let him go up into the front of the crowd, only inches away from Jason. Jason was holding something in the pocket of his jacket, waiting for everyone to get a view. When they were all there, he pulled it out slowly. _

_Tony was the first to gulp when he saw a glimmer of silver. Jason was pulling out a .42 pistol from his large jacket pocket. He flipped it over in his hands and waited patiently as most of them ooohed and aaahed. _

"_Is it loaded?" Marcus asked, trying to keep his voice from shaking. He'd been around guns before, but never loaded ones._

"'_Course it ain't loaded! Why the Hell would he bring a gun here if it was loaded? Use 'yer head Marc!" An older boy, Johnny, said sneering. He grabbed the gun from Jason's hands and held it out in both hands like he was a trained FBI agent or police officer. _

"_Be careful, Johnny, I got it off of my old man's desk. I don't think its loaded, but you should really check first!" Jason warned. He made a reach for the gun._

"_Be careful my ass!" Johnny yelled and set the automatic trigger. It made a loud click. _

"_Johnny don't-" Jason started to say, but not soon enough._

_Johnny pulled the trigger with his right forefinger, and the shot echoed through the still emptiness of the lot. They waited to here the 'ting' of the bullet hitting a trash can, but instead they only heard a small 'thunk', as if it hit a pile of pillows. There was a muffled scream before Marcus went down in a heap, right at Tony's feet. Tony looked down at his friend and didn't know what else to do. He wept. Marcus was one of the only things that kept him sane through the shit-heap he called life, and he was gone. There was no way he could still be alive; the bullet went clear through his forehead. Tony was several years younger than Marcus, and Marcus was the second youngest of the group. It was mainly teenagers in upper middle school and high school, like Marcus, but they let Tony hang around with them. They all stood and watched as Tony knelt down and wept into his deceased friends shirt. The oldest boy, a 17 year old named Damien who was heading to West Point in a month, knealt down beside Tony and put a comforting hand on his back as he sobbed. When Tony finally stood up, Damien put his arm around Tony's back and another arm behind his knees and lifted him up, allowing Tony to cling to him as he continued to sob. _

_Tony, still being only eight at the time, couldn't care less about how much of a fool he was making of himself. His best friend was lying in a pool of blood on the ground in front of him. It was then that the ambulance pulled up. (Someone had obviously called when they heard the gun shot and saw Marcus fall.) Several EMT's got out and rushed to Marcus, but he was immediately proclaimed dead and they slowed their pace. They all gave small Tony sympathetic looks as they passed, taking notice of the tear-stained cheeks and red-brimmed eyes. To any passerby, Tony was a heart-wrenching sight. A small boy, sobbing his heart out and rubbing his eyes with small balled-up fists. All he needed was a teddy bear in one arm and he'd make every woman in America weep their hearts out for him. _

_Later on, after Marcus' body had been carried away, Damien drove Tony home, not caring that it was probably illegal to let a little boy sit on your lap while you're driving. Damien new little of Tony's home, but knew enough that he shouldn't take him _straight_ home. Instead he opted to take him by his own house, where his mother fawned over Tony and fed him while Tony regained composure. After a few hours, Damien mouthed a 'thank you' to his mom and brought Tony back out to the car. He brought him inside to his house, where a butler whisked Tony off to his room. _

_Tony never told his father about what happened, knowing he would only be blamed and belittled for not doing something to help. Not that an eight year old can do very much to stop an older boy with a gun, but his father never-much liked details._

Tony looked around suddenly, realizing that he had been talking during a memory again. His boss looked like he was going to be physically ill again.

"I'm sorry, boss, I didn't mean to-" Tony began before being interrupted by Gibbs.

"Tony, don't _ever _apologize for what happened to you."

"I was apologizing for making you-"

The slap to the back of the head was a surprise. Tony didn't even remember seeing Gibbs leave his place on the stool and make it over to the opposite side of the basement.

Gibbs looked at Tony with more compassion and utter agony than Tony had ever seen from his boss.

Without even thinking, Tony began saying, "I'm sor-"

Gibbs put a finger to his own lips, (now back at the stool again), signaling Tony to be quiet. Tony did as he was told and looked down at his thumbs, which were still twining and untwining around each other. He hadn't realized that he was bighting his tongue. When he released the pressure of his teeth, he could taste the salty flavor of blood trickling down past his taste buds.

"Tony, why…" Gibbs began, trying to turn the anger in his voice to a more kind-sounding tone. He didn't want Tony to perceive it as anger towards him, when in reality it was anger towards the people who made him this way. "… why didn't you tell me? Why did you keep walls up all this time, blocking me out?"

Tony looked up at Gibbs, his eyes brimming with the gleam of tears. They weren't yet falling, but at any minute looked like they could turn into a waterfall of cascading tears. Tony looked at him with such pleading desperation that Gibbs' heart clenched.

"Gibbs," he sniffled back tears before continuing, "sometimes people put up walls not to keep people out…" he sniffled again and looked up into the air, at nothing really, and then settled his gaze back on Gibbs. "… but to see who cares enough to break them down."

That last statement shattered Gibbs' heart as if it were a piece of glass and those words were penetrating knives.

"Tony, I know your past life was…" he paused, "well frankly it sucked, but you can rise above that. You're not your father, and you never will be. And if he didn't care about you, he didn't deserve you. 'Cuz you're a Hell of a guy, Anthony. And even if you're father doesn't love you, we do."

It was then that Tony finally broke down. All of the pent-up anguish from years of suffering was finally released. Gibbs thought momentarily of a damn breaking, and a flood of water rushing through with great force. During his speech Gibbs had walked over next to Tony again, and now Tony grabbed onto Gibbs' shirt and hung there like it was his lifeline. He sobbed into Gibbs' shirt, his arms wrapped around his boss' back in a death-grip. Gibbs was hugging Tony right back, providing the comfort his senior field agent needed. He began stroking his hand softly through Tony's hair, ignoring the wetness he could feel seeping through his shirt.

Tony was mumbling throughout the wracking sobs. The parts that Gibbs could make out sounded something like, "He made me… and, and he made that guy… and he, he kept calling him… I thought it would never end… I wanted to kill myself…"

"Who, Tony?" Gibbs whispered softly.

"M-Mr. Vick… my-my father called him… had him…" he sniffled, "had him…"

"Had him what, Tony?"

"… molest me…" Tony finished, loosening his grasp on Gibbs. Gibbs allowed him to do so, but made him sit back down in fear he would collapse. Tony was still crying, but was now frantically trying to explain between sobs.

"Well, he didn't actually _make _him, but… but he knew it was happening! He knew!" Tony sobbed.

Gibbs sat silently and waited for Tony to regain an ounce of composure. He had to be patient.

"Mr. Vick was supposed to be my, my damned therapist! But you know what 'therapist' spells out, Gibbs? Huh? _The_ friggin' _rapist_! And it was true! He, he'd lock me in a room with only a mattress and… and he'd make me…"

The rest came out in a mumbled hysteria of sobs. Gibbs didn't try very hard to listen, he was content on just letting Tony get it out. He wasn't sure he wanted to hear anyway. When Tony finally seemed to be finished, he looked up at Gibbs and muttered the seemingly most pitiful question Gibbs had ever heard.

"Why?"

**A/N: Before I say anything, the part that says "therapist spells out the rapist" is borrowed from Daemonofcakes (or his friend, I don't know who said it first lol). Ok, back to the story. There were the memories you wanted. It was only two, I know, but don't worry. There will be some more Tony memories (not necessarily in flashback sequence, but they will be mentioned) mixed in with the comfort. **

**For anyone out there who has been waiting for me to update Broken Promises, its coming don't worry. **

**And I am reposting the story Boys Are Concrete Angels too in the next few days with corrections, because I had received a complaint about it. Even though there really weren't very many mistakes other than the occasional spelling error. Well anyway, if you haven't read that story I ask that you please do. I posted all three short chapters in that one night so it wasn't up on the fanfiction page very long before other updates pushed it away.**

**Thank you all and please review! **

**-And I have one more "vote" type thing again. Do you want it to be one more chapter of comfort and then complete or do you want a chapter where Tony goes to therapy with Gibbs or talks about it with a member of the team or something? If the second is your choice, please explain. **

**Thank and please review, again!**

**-AgentDiNozzo13**


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: SOOO sorry its been forever since I've updated! When me and my mom and sister moved out, the computer was down for awhile! Thank you for those of you who are still reading! **

"_Why?"_

His voice cracked. Gibbs opened his mouth to answer, then closed it again. He needed to think of the right thing to say. Saying something heartfelt that seems to be coming from a Hallmark card wasn't what he needed, but neither was harshness and minimal-sympathy. Tony was a hard case, but Gibbs was determined to get through to him.

"Tony…" Gibbs began, taking a deep breath and looking him straight in the eye. "Your father, well, he was a bastard."

"Gibbs-"

"And don't even try telling me it was your fault." He cut Tony off. His voice had become more harsh than he meant it too, so he took a deep breath before talking again. When he looked over at Tony he saw his agent coil back into himself at the slight anger Gibbs had portrayed. It crushed Gibbs to see such a usually-independent man crumbling like this. He was so vulnerable. "Tony, if we had a case where a little boy was involved, and he told you his father made him stay in a basement or get beaten when he did one little thing wrong, would you say it was normal? Would you tell him 'it could be worse' or 'suck it up'?"

Tony gave a small nod no.

"That's what I thought. Some of the things your father did were far _worse _than that. So why do you insist that it was your fault or that it wasn't that bad? Tony, your childhood is probably one of the worst I've ever heard. But somehow you've managed to stay sane through all these years without mentioning a word about it to anyone. I don't know how you do it. I probably would have killed myself by now, if I were you. But you didn't. You didn't go insane, you didn't become depressed, you led a successful life. You've showed him that you _are_ worth something. And you _are_. Just try and forget all the things he's done to you."

There was a long silence. Gibbs thought it had surely been close to twenty minutes, but in reality it was closer to six or seven. Tony was still across the room, his arms folded, as if trying to protect himself. One hand was still at his mouth, but he still wasn't biting his nails. Just biting lightly on his knuckles, as if urging his tear ducts to stay closed. It was Tony who finally broke the silence, with a statement Gibbs didn't understand at all. It was a whisper, and Tony didn't look at Gibbs' eyes once when he said it. He kept his eyes focused on the bottom right corner of the room.

"He used to make me do the dead cockroach."

"The dead cockroach?" Gibbs said, confused.

"He would have me lay on my back on the kitchen floor with my feet straight up in the air. If my legs lowered at all, he would hit my feet with a switch. I'd stay like that for hours. Usually until my father passed out from the scotch or my feet were bleeding too much and he didn't want me getting the floor dirty."

He had said the last line with so much casualness, as if all kids were excused from punishments because their feet were too bloody and they didn't want to dirty the floor. As if it were normal to even draw blood from a punishment in the first place! Before Gibbs could think of something to say, Tony whispered quietly, "God I was so afraid of him."

Gibbs pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to figure out what to say. However, Tony interrupted his thinking process when he said, "And I think that's what he wanted. He wanted me to be afraid. To be _petrified_. If was all fun and games for him."

Tony was now clutching a mug of bourbon that Gibbs had silently poured and slid over to him.

"You don't have to be scared anymore, Tony. You're always safe with us and you _know_ that." Gibbs said, leaning in towards Tony.

"Yeah, Gibbs I've heard it all before. But I'm not a child, Gibbs. You guys aren't going to be watching over me twenty-four seven."

"Maybe not, but as a team, as _family_, we always got your six, and I'd hope you did the same for us." Gibbs answered, watching his agent.

Tony's words came out in barely a whisper now. "I've _always_ had your guys' six. _Always._"

"I know, Tony. So forget your father. Because honestly, Tony," he sighed first, looking Tony straight in the eye, "I've always thought of you as my son. I love you, Tony."

Tony's lip began to tremble, and in an instant Gibbs was over to him, enveloping him in a warm hug, as Tony sobbed out a life-long misery into his chest. Tony clutched at Gibbs as if he were a lifeline, saving him from spiraling into the dark place. Gibbs kept his arms wrapped firmly around Tony's shoulders, allowing him to finally get out his grief. Tony was mumbling things in between sobs, things like 'he made me' and 'I hate him'. The rest was unlegible, but Gibbs didn't care. He couldn't take one more mention of Tony being hurt. When Tony began to pull away, Gibbs saw in his eyes not a thirty-something man, but a child. A child who had never truly felt love. Gibbs pulled him back towards him, where he continued to sob until a large dark tear-stain had formed on Gibbs' shirt. At that time Tony was worn-out beyond belief. He passed out cold from exhaustion in Gibbs' arms, where he stayed for several minutes before Gibbs nearly dragged him up the stairs and had him sleep in the guest room.

Gibbs turned off the light in Tony's room, looking at his still sleeping form in the faint glow from the hallway light. He was about to close the door when he heard Tony whisper, "I love you, Gibbs."

"I love you too, Tony. Now sleep." Gibbs said with a hint of firmness, he didn't want his agent thinking he was going soft.

For once that night, Tony didn't dream of his father coming back for revenge. He also didn't dream of him and Gibbs or him and the team. He dreamed of nothing. Peaceful nothingness. A clear mind. Something he had never had before. And he liked it.

**A/N: Finally finished. Please review. And for those of you who read my White Collar fics, "I Didn't Let You Down" is being made into a full story. Please read! Thanks! **

**For the last time (in this story anyway),**

**-AgentDiNozzo13**


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